The Legend of the White Crane
by TheNewIdea
Summary: Every member of the Furious Five has a story behind them, each of them with various degrees of truth and mystery. For Crane, it is nothing more than a legend, a fairy tale; but when he runs into Po, an overly eager panda with dreams of kung-fu mastery, he discovers just how much truth those legends hold.
1. Meditation

Chapter One: Meditation

Meditation, or the act of finding peace through complete and total silence with the aim of a religious or relaxation purpose, was one of the most important things that any respected member of Furious Five undertook on a daily basis. For most of them it involved five minutes of silence, in which they allowed themselves to reflect. They were instructed not to think about any troubles of the world or training, they were only to focus on themselves and their purpose in the world.

Tigress, for her session, used a combination of chants and rapid arm movements, allowing herself complete and total awareness of her surroundings in the event of an attack. Although her methods were less than orthodox, on personal level seeing meditation as something for the weak minded, Tigress constantly defended that it was sincere, and so was allowed to continue the practice. Mantis and Monkey, who always seemed to do their meditation together, took the liberty of balancing themselves on their heads, adding the challenge of balance and the accompanied physical endurance in order to push themselves to their upmost limitations. It should also be noted that between them it was also something of a contest to see who was able to last longer-usually with Monkey turning out the victor.

The only exceptions to the rule in this case were Viper and Crane, the former constantly restless and the latter, the exact opposite when it came down to meditation. Viper would weave in and out of the high grass that surrounded the temple and attempt to the best of her ability to balance herself on the lower half of her body, stretching as far as she would allow in an effort to reach the sun. Crane, in contrast, would roost in one spot, his favorite place being a large tree that rested just inside the walls of the temple. From this position he was able to see most of the Valley, gaze on the people below going about their lives and their daily business and reflect on the things that he deemed important. Mostly Crane thought about nothing particularly interesting, taking the words of Master Shifu to heart and focusing on clearing the mind but occasionally, for no particular reason at all, Crane would focus on the paddy fields and wetlands of Southern China; leagues from the Valley where he currently lived. He wondered if any of his family remained, and if they did if they cared about him at all; and if he would have stayed would he have been happy. These questions of existentialism were not bad or impeding thoughts, for they did not hound his duties as a warrior, monk and protector of peace, but to say that they did not happen at all would be to deny what humanity Crane considered himself to possess.

Breathing for the sake of breathing Crane looked out on the city, trying to see if he recognized anyone, for he took the time to memorize faces and browse the streets for names, the bird noticed for the first time that day that he was hungry. He laughed casually to himself at his negligence, having skipped breakfast in favor of an early sparring session, and took flight down his tree to the courtyard whereupon he found Monkey and Mantis right themselves and return to the sparring room.

"Ha!" Mantis exclaimed boastfully, "I got three minutes, a new record!"

Monkey huffed indifferently and shook his head, "Whatever" he replied, "Still two minutes shorter than me, at least I can last the whole time. You're done before I even start!"

Mantis couldn't help but laugh, somehow finding Monkey's statement hilarious; Crane, who heard most of their conversation, in part because his mind was still clear and thus heightening his senses and in part because both Mantis and Monkey were terrible whispers, knew that Mantis was laughing because of the sexual undertones that certain words carried and the way that they were said, which taken out of context could easily be mistaken for something else entirely.

"Will you two knock it off?" Crane asked, passive aggressively, as was his nature, "Show some respect for yourselves. Meditation isn't supposed to be a contest, it's supposed to be a time for reflection and inner peace."

Monkey and Mantis nodded, seeing wisdom in Crane's philosophy while still holding to their own. They had little reason to meditate, ironic in Mantis' case being that his species was practically known for the art, much preferring action over contemplation.

"Listen" Mantis began, trying to sympathize, "We're not like you. We can't just stare out into space and think about things. The world is changing and we have to change with it. People don't care about tradition, they care about progress."

Crane shook his head, for such thoughts, although practical, fitting his pragmatism, went against everything he was taught, which was a stronger force in the bird's being. He believed that in order for the world to continue it had to look back on the past and to learn from the mistakes, to improve, slowly, while still maintaining a connection to the natural, physical world.

"Master Shifu always tells us to be an example" Crane began, slightly chastising, "How can we do that if we jump on the forward progress bandwagon? Just because things are changing doesn't mean they always should. Some things should stay as they are."

Tigress and Viper appeared, one from the other side of the courtyard, and the other from the base of Crane's tree. Each of them appeared tired and worn, as if they hadn't slept in days. In truth they all needed rest, having trained constantly under Shifu in order to prepare for an exhibition for the people the following day.

"What's going on?" Tigress asked, curiosity getting the better of her, "You guys seem upset."

Monkey laughed sarcastically, slightly annoyed and gestured towards Crane, who in turn looked down, embarrassed and ashamed.

"Just another lecture from By-the-Book himself" Monkey answered, "He thinks that we should be conservative and avoid progress."

Tigress glanced at Crane and then at Monkey, she knew in her heart that Crane, being a pragmatic, found it difficult to talk about subjects involving faith and inner peace, areas that he struggled in despite his personal beliefs. She also knew that Crane was insecure and incredibly sensitive, speaking only when absolutely necessary, often keeping to his own thoughts.

"Whatever he said he's right" Tigress declared, automatically siding with the bird, "Our traditions are sacred, to abandon them means to lose everything we have."

Monkey nodded, for the moment accepting it, if only because it came from Tigress, whom he respected slightly more than Crane due to her status as the appointed leader of the Five. Mantis, who during the conversation began to have a change of heart after much personal deliberation, casually jumped on top of Crane's head and peered down, staring directly into the bird's eyes.

"No hard feelings?" Mantis said, apologizing, to which Crane immediately gave a small smile and a nod, unable to bring himself to stay too broken hearted about the affair; knowing that both of them meant the best of intentions.

"Don't worry about it" Crane replied, "There's no need to cause rifts between us with so many people trying to kill us on a daily basis."

Monkey laughed and slapped his knee over-dramatically, for the statement could not have been more accurate. If it wasn't training at the temple it was on patrol duty of the Valley, something that carried its own dangers, particularly in the Wards section, where the most crime tended to occur. Although the local guards and watchmen did their best to keep the peace when it came to local matters, some situations, mostly of the delicate nature, required the expertise of trained professionals. During the most dangerous of situations, the task usually being the prevention of a political assassination or the collapse of society, Tigress and Monkey took care of the heavy work, charging directly into battle with absolutely no care as to the consequences of their actions while Mantis, Viper, and Crane in particular, relied on stealth and clandestine methods to complete the objective. Thankfully, these times were few and far between, making Crane's statement of constant death and Monkey's over-dramatized laughter an overstated exaggeration.

Viper chuckled in turn, hers more playful and inviting than Monkey's, which was more of a howl. Crane preferred this, for it's subtly spoke volumes that only people who liked the company of themselves and their own minds better than the company of others understood. It was a laughter that he had heard one other time, in another life at his distant home. He could not remember the face to the laugh or its significance other than the fact that it was sweet and soft. He assumed that it did not matter, for it was enough to carry the memory and make his heart lighter. Without another word, the group entered the temple, Monkey, Mantis, and Tigress going one way, Crane and Viper, the other.

"What are you thinking about Crane?" Viper pried as she entered the common room, "Something on your mind?"

Crane shrugged indifferently, failing to see why he had to air his problems in front of everyone; if it was one thing the bird respected it was privacy, especially his own. He did not talk about himself and if he did it was only minor details, most of which were public and general common knowledge. He talked about the paddy fields and the wetlands, but not to the extent that it warranted an equal conversation about the jungles of China, which the others hailed from, their population in great numbers in comparison to Crane's people, which were dwindling.

"Nothing to concern yourself with" Crane replied, "My business is my business. I'll leave you to yours if you leave me to mine."

Viper raised her eyebrows curiously, noting Crane's tone, which was somber than usual; normally the bird being slightly more upbeat.

"Well something must be bothering you" Viper continued, refusing to allow Crane to shut her out so easily, "Your tail feathers are sagging, whenever your tail feathers sag something is wrong."

Crane, aware of this physical cue, said nothing and simply made his way to the kitchen, slightly off to the side of the common room, adjacent to the training area. They were expecting to remodel the temple within the coming weeks, in which they would receive actual living quarters instead of having to sleep and eat in the main hub. Taking his food, a rice cake, from the small makeshift table in the corner of the room, and taking flight to his place in the rafters, Crane began once more to clear his mind of distractions.

Viper entered as quietly as she could, behind her was Shifu, who was just about to tell the Five of their duties for the evening. The red panda, who was old and wise beyond his years, glanced up at Crane, who ate with little purpose, and smiled, for he had seen this before. Crane's face was that of one who was searching for answers without questions, who constantly sought but never found, and who strove for peace but despite their best efforts, never fully obtained it. It was the look of a wanderer, of a dreamer and a hopeless romantic. Walking into the room, his cane tapping the floor with every other step, Shifu gave a long sigh, after which he waited for a few seconds, having developed a sense for the dramatic, and began his piece.

"Do you know of the Legend of the White Crane?"

Crane said nothing, for he was deep in thought and almost in a meditative state, his food all but forgotten. Shifu continued despite this, knowing full well that the bird had retained consciousness.

"It is an old legend. It tells of Qiniang- you know of the great crane?"

Crane nodded, for the legend was a common one among crane chicks, the exploits of Qiniang being popular for their tales of heroism and wisdom without much in the way of strength. Crane had often dreamed of meeting Qiniang, if only to thank her for inspiring him to follow the teachings of kung-fu, but given that Qiniang was almost seventy years before his time that was an impossibility. Shifu, taking Crane's nod, continued without interruption, trying to get to his point as quickly as possible.

"Every time the farmer would attack with his stick Qiniang would counter with pecks and strikes with her beak and claws, never once taking the initiative to attack, her only concern protecting herself."

Crane glanced towards Shifu, for he knew the story differently. His version involving Qiniang taking the stick and throwing it in the woods, not only countering but completely disarming her opponent; and then, even so, incapacitating him further by grappling him into submission.

"What's your point?" Crane said, throwing his food, not caring where it went, "That I should only be concerned with myself? That's rather selfish isn't it?"

Shifu nodded, for it was indeed selfish to think only about oneself, ironic considering that was the purpose of the earlier meditation; still, that was not his point.

"I'm saying that you have something that no one else has" Shifu clarifying, "It is easy to know when to attack, it is much harder to know when not to."

Crane stopped listening the minute Shifu opened his mouth; he did not want to hear about his style of fighting and the legend that came with it. He wanted to be told that he mattered, that he had purpose and that it was clear; that he would find happiness and know security.

"Forgive me Teacher" Crane exclaimed as he flew down, landing in front of the Master, "But frankly, I don't care. There is more to life."

Shifu nodded and smiled once again, knowing that would be his answer. Grasping his cane, the Master turned around and slowly made his way out of the room. Viper smiled and embraced Crane as best she could, trying to take away the pain; it did not work, but Crane smiled anyway, appreciating the effort.

"Thanks" he said softly, resisting the urge to cry, "It's nice to know that I have at least one person who doesn't think I'm a complete waste of time."

Shifu walked back at this; it was steady and gentle, his face mirroring it, glowing with warmth and affection. Viper, at seeing Shifu once more, broke away and casually moved aside. In a way she already knew what he was going to say, for she was seconds from saying it herself; she did not however, instead letting Shifu take the initiative. Taking his hand and placing it on Crane's chest, for that was the highest that he knew he would be allowed to go, Shifu looked up at his pupil and with the voice of a father to a son began another piece, this one more personal and devoid of unclear metaphors and needless symbolism.

"You have a heart that is as big as your wingspan; you preach peace and harmony with nature and people, and you think that is a waste of time? Crane you are many things, but a waste of time is not among them."

Crane bowed his head respectfully, recognizing that he was being complimented. The bird was expecting to be blessed by way of Shifu's staff, as was tradition in the temple when given praise. Instead of this however, Crane received nothing, Shifu standing before him, motionless yet never losing his smile or the rosy cheeks that he now possessed.

"You do not need a blessing" Shifu declared, "You are blessed already. Promise me that you will never lose your passion for helping and protecting others, the world could use more of that."

Crane smiled in turn and nodded, "Thank you for speaking so highly of me Master" he answered, "I will not fail you."

Shifu shook his head and chuckled to himself, for it was just like Crane to try and aim to please.

"You would be failing yourself" Shifu corrected, "Walk in the Way and you will find victory with every step."

With this the Master took his leave, leaving Crane with Viper, each of them saying nothing, both pondering the meaning of his words, if they had any at all to begin with.

"What happens now?" Viper asked, hoping against hope that Crane would pull himself out of the hole that he dug himself into if he had not climbed out already, "Do we pick up where we left off?"

Crane did not respond, not because he did not hear; he most certainly did, rather because his mind, which was once clear of distraction and worry, was now clouded with questions. There was no time to wonder or to dream, there was no time for promises of the past or hope for the future; there was only time for the present and the uncertainty that came with it.

"You promised me" Viper continued as Crane made his way back to his perch only to look out the small window on the other side of the room.

"I still think it's ridiculous" Crane declared, "But since you do so much for so little, I will do what I can."

Viper slithered around in a circle, unable to contain her excitement; to which Crane could laugh in amusement.

"Thanks Crane!" Viper declared as she made her exit, "You don't know what it means!"

Crane casually went for his hat, only to realize that he had lost his a few weeks before; recovering by rubbing the feathers on top of his head, Crane nodded, immediately looking out the window towards his tree. The idea in and of itself was something that he could not comprehend. He had never heard of a viper wanting to fly before nor had he seen any kind of reptile having similar aspirations; as far as he was concerned until he was proven wrong through facts, logic, reason, or experience, vipers were strictly land creatures.

"Flying vipers" Crane said, "What a ridiculous notion. Gliding perhaps, but not full flight."

As he thought about Viper's request, the sun slowly began to set, the twilight hours coming on. It was the perfect night for meditation, and so, with this in mind, Crane stood, strutted towards the window and took to the air for his tree.


	2. Rites, Rituals and Their Meaning

Chapter Two: Rites, Rituals and Their Meaning

The next morning Crane woke up with a crick in his back and a less than cheery disposition; his dreams the night before plagued by nightmares and whispers that he did not recognize. Still, despite this, he felt as if he had an obligation, to Shifu and the rest of the Five, as well as to the people, who were expecting a performance. It was strange, to think of something that they had been training for their entire lives as nothing more than a mere stunt: an act. Tigress in particular, had disdain for the whole affair, for she hated public relation activities, having much preferred training or patrol.

"We shouldn't be doing this" Tigress grumbled as she entered the courtyard, stretching, "It's a waste of time."

Crane, who was behind her, laughed and shook his head pitifully. He was much more inclined to mingle with the populace than the others, in part because of his personal philosophy and in part because he was naturally socially awkward and so, always made an effort to be in an many social situations as possible.

"Come on" Crane said encouragingly, "It's not that bad. Besides these people need something to look forward to, something to hope for. Who says we can't be that positive influence?"

Tigress growled, she had already received a lecture from Shifu, about how it was important for the Five to maintain connections with the people, lest they stop believing in their abilities and upset the fragile balance of the universe; she did not need a second from Crane, whom as far as she was concerned was little more than an inductee and not worthy to even walk in her shadow.

"It's ridiculous" Tigress exclaimed, annoyed, "We should be out on patrol or training, not pandering to commoners who could care less about us."

Crane sighed and shook his head, although in a strange way he understood Tigress' position, for she was always serious and never one to take jokes lightly, he also understood the meaning of kung-fu; it was not merely a defense mechanism or a skill one learned to feel superior, it was a state of being, a representation of discipline and patience, the essence of one who knew how to fight yet chose not to. Titling his head slightly, in an attempt to show visual concern, Crane tried to reason with Tigress.

"Yesterday you talked about tradition" Crane began, slowly, trying to break Tigress' mental barriers, as well as her sense of honor, "Training, meditation, the Way, all of it is connected; you cannot have one without the others. As for the people, it is better that they live in ignorance. Were they to know the truth, that this world is a cruel place filled with danger and despair, their lives would be full of nothing misery and pain."

Tigress huffed in disbelief, hating the fact that Crane was using her sentiments the day before to get to her; annoyed that he had spoken the truth, or at least a good portion of it.

"When are you ever going to stop being so righteous?" Tigress asked, "Can't you just let me stew for a few minutes?"

Crane laughed and shook his head once more in denial, for it was the kind of unhappiness and festering that was not required, only needed for its own sake.

"I have no interest seeing you in a cooking pot" Crane joked, "Besides I'd doubt it be any good, negativity can ruin any meal. I find it's much better to eat in the company of friends with horrible food than be surrounded by a great feast with people you can't stand."

Tigress smiled a bit, Crane's joke dry and relatively humorless, the wisdom of the truism overpowering whatever humorous qualities the joke possessed; still, this was Crane's way. It was not so much the act of making someone laugh, it was the effort of trying and the endearment involved that made Tigress open herself up, a thing that happened rarely and usually under special circumstances.

"See" Crane continued in an I-told-you-so fashion, gently wrapping a wing around the tiger's shoulder, "Much better isn't it?"

Shifu emerged from the threshold of the front gate, before him the closed doors of the palace. He stared at each of the Five and smiled, confident in their ability.

"You all know what this means" Shifu began, "It is time for the Dragon Warrior to be chosen."

The Master then began to pace, continuing his speech he walked down the line, passing in order: Tigress, Mantis, Viper, Monkey, and Crane. In the style of a montage, Shifu, for no particular reason, fashioned his words to fit attributes that he believed best described the person he was in front of, as well as those of the Dragon Warrior.

"The tiger" Shifu continued, "Symbol of strength and bravery. Admirable qualities for leadership, yet often lacking in focus and discipline."

Tigress nodded, recognizing this as a compliment while at the same time being reminded of her faults. She knew that in many ways the weaknesses of one were complimented by the other; in her case, what she lacked in focus and discipline she found in Mantis, who was traditionally associated with mystery, and Crane, who represented various things, among them being wisdom and determination.

By the time Shifu reached Crane the gong that was to begin the exhibition had been rung, still, regardless, he felt that something needed to be said, if nothing else for a sudden belief in luck.

"The crane; among the pines a symbol of wealth and power, intense determination. Yet, when among the skies where it is happiest, wisdom and nobility. Ultimately, these are nothing compared to the signs of a long, happy life."

The gong sounded a second time, the cue for Shifu to take his leave and for the Five to appear.

"Remember" Shifu said as he stepped away, moving to the side as to allow them amble room to move, "Keep it simple and keep it short-"

Shifu glanced towards Mantis and Monkey, giving them a slight evil eye.

"Especially you two" he exclaimed, "No feats of strength, no contests. That's not what this is about."

Mantis and Monkey huffed half-sarcastically, for they knew that Shifu had only mentioned it to get on their nerves; they would never stoop to such low levels as to compete during an exhibition for the people. It was both dishonorable and pretentious, which is something that they both hated in equal measure.

With the opening of the gates came the end of the gong, and subsequently, the roar of the applause of the large crowd that had gathered before the ancient temple that had stood the test of time. Because the Five was in part, hierarchal in nature, Tigress went first; jumping from the left side of the makeshift stage over a small wall. She was followed by Mantis, who came in directly from the temple, doing a quick exercise and then ceasing, taking in the scene before him. Next was Viper, who slithered in from the grass as she fast as she was able, demonstrating her speed and agility; next came Monkey, who came from the right, having climbed on top of the gate during Tigress' entrance. Crane was last, and, having the most time, decided to make his entrance from his tree, gliding down and gracefully coming around to the stage after making a quick circle of the crowd.

It was during the applause and cheers of the crowd, in the middle of Viper's entrance, that Grandmaster Oogway appeared from the temple, the tortoise having started his day in the early morning by the fig tree that rested on the cliff face on the sealed section of the complex, only accessible to members, and only then in great need. It had taken him a total of three and half hours for Oogway to make the journey from the fig tree to the front door of the palace, for the tortoise, in addition to being incredibly slow and lacking all sense of punctuality, was also extremely old; almost a century and a quarter in literal years.

Shifu, in an attempt to speed the process along, ran behind Oogway and began to push, after a few seconds of this and failing to make any significance progress, Oogway got the hint and retreated inside of his shell.

"Push Shifu" Oogway instructed, slowly, as was his nature, "I know how much time means to you."

Without even so much as questioning anything, for the sake of time, Shifu did as he was told and kicked Oogway as hard as he could, effectively rocketing him forward past the stage and into the crowd only to be caught by Crane just as the tortoise would have hit the ground. Returning to the stage with Oogway, struggling in the effort for he was heavier than he appeared to be, Crane noticed out of the corner of his eye a bull, who was slowly agitating a poor and meekly goose.

The bull, whose name was Torus, was snorting a large puff of air towards the goose in an attempt to be as threatening as possible. The decorative ring that adorned his flaring nostrils moved up and down with each puff, clinking subtly and forming an unsettling rhythm which the bull's body followed with tenacity. The goose, on the other hand, who wore a simple garment made of wool and a conical hat that was way too big for his head, was trembling in fear. If it were physiologically possible, the waterfowl would have been laying eggs, but being a male of the species, only began to molt, shaking violently.

"I've been very patient with you" Torus exclaimed, trying to contain himself, "But I need recompense. Give me what is owed."

The goose nodded and reached into its pocket, pulling out a meager coin purse and throwing it into the bull's hand.

"Here" the goose answered, "250 coins, everything I have. Please, just take it."

Torus grunted and grabbed the collar of the bird's shirt, almost ripping it in half as he brought him as close to his face as he would allow.

"250!" Torus continued, "You expect me to take 250? Where's the rest of it?"

The goose began to squawk and squirm, trying his best and failing to break himself free. At realizing this he did the only thing he could do and began to laugh nervously, hoping against hope that he would play on the bull's sympathies.

"Come on Torus we're friends!" The goose began, "We've known each other for years. When everyone said that bulls couldn't run china shops who told them otherwise?"

Torus huffed and shook his head, "As I recall you were one of the first ones to start laughing!" he replied, "What, just because I'm a bull means I can't run a shop full of breakable items that are overpriced, virtually meaningless and aesthetically unappealing? How dare you Ping! After everything that I've given you, all that I've done!"

Torus, more out of mixed feelings and pain than rage, threw Ping down to the ground as hard as he could and proceeded to swing his fist. Under normal circumstances, Torus' fist would have hit the hapless Ping square in the face, breaking his beak, knocking out a good bit of his teeth, and effectively giving him two black eyes; but this was not under normal circumstances, for it just so happened to be during the exhibition of the Dragon Warrior and so, Torus' fist was countered by Crane, who upon seeing the encounter did the only thing that he could do.

"That's enough Torus" Crane said, his wings raised, covering his body in order to protect himself should the bull perceive him as a threat, "Go home. Don't make this any more difficult than it has to be."

Torus stopped for a moment and blinked, refusing to believe that Crane, or any of the Five would take the time to know his name. As far as he was concerned the world cared nothing for him, only given due attention when blame was needed or when a crime had been committed despite Torus being a generally upstanding citizen. This sudden realization, and upon Crane's lack of fear and complete and total composure, brought Torus to his knees, his head lowered in reverence and partial shame.

Tigress and the other members of the Five remained on the platform, confused and generally bewildered as to what was going on. Tigress, for her part, could only think about how much Crane had ruined the entire ceremony, for the scuffle had interrupted Oogway's rites, the coronation ritual of the Dragon Warrior. Viper, in contrast, stood in complete and total awe, a small smile on her face, remembering Shifu's words from the day before as well as something that Crane had said time and time again about his own inadequacy.

"I am nothing special" Crane had said once, "I'm just trying to do what anyone else would do-"

Crane began to relax, Torus rose and sighed, staring at Ping with regretful and sorrowful eyes, they spoke of pity and forgiveness. The goose smiled and stepped forward, now next to Crane and casually pushed him aside.

"It's okay" Ping said reassuringly to Crane, who immediately took the defense as soon as Ping made himself known, "Just two friends talking."

Ping stared at Torus for a few seconds and smiled, straightening his over-sized hat on the top of his head and shaking himself out, for he was considerably ruffled, Ping bowed his head and reached into his pocket once more. It was not gold or jewelry, but instead a picture of himself, a small panda, and Torus.

"Do you remember this?" Ping said, his voice as soft as possible, "His first birthday. You helped me Torus, when it was too hard, when I felt like quitting, you brought me back."

Torus nodded, for he did remember; he remembered a lot of things, but he also remembered that he had once lent money to Ping during a time when business was slow and nonexistent. Now, the time had come for compensation.

"That doesn't change anything" Torus declared, "I have a family of my own to support, you know that."

Crane, feeling pity for the both of them, slowly began searching his pockets, ultimately finding a meager coin purse of 300 coins and a broken sealed letter, the seal bearing the mark of his family.

"Take this" Crane said, throwing the purse at Torus' feet, "May it settle all debts and prevent the airing of further grievances."

Torus picked up the coin purse and counted, he shook his head in solace and sighed, for even if it was combined with Ping's amount it still would not be enough to cover his needs. Still, if only to prevent more argument and a possible beating from Crane, Torus relented and bowed with all the grace and dignity he could find.

"Let it never be said that Torus the bull did not recognize a gift when he received it" the bull exclaimed, "You have my thanks; may you be blessed with long life and good fortune."

As Torus took his leave, wading through the crowd and into the city center, Crane could only look after him, wondering why it was that he accepted the gift so freely without further debate or discussion; perhaps, he thought, it was because he was so desperate that arguing the point further would belittle his need.

It was at this moment that the remaining members of the Five, Shifu, and Oogway, made their way over, the time for contemplation and wonder having ceased, in favor of curiosity. Crane turned towards them, his smile meek and partially submissive, especially in regards to Tigress, whose folded arms and glaring, piercing eyes made her opinion clear.

"What the hell was that?" Tigress declared, unable to restrain herself, "Do you realize what you've done?"

Crane nodded, certain in his resolve.

"Yes" the bird replied, "I helped someone in need. Since when is that a crime?"

Tigress groaned and huffed, annoyed that Crane was once again trying to play on her sympathies.

"Interrupting the Dragon Warrior ceremony is a heinous offense!" Tigress berated, "It dishonors our traditions."

Crane laughed and rolled his eyes, amazed at Tigress' words and their arrogance. He found it difficult to believe that someone who claimed to follow the Way and train under Shifu and Oogway would have such high opinions of ceremonies and traditions that meant relatively little in terms of the position that they carried.

"We're supposed to be protectors of the peace" Crane defended, "Followers of the Way."

Mantis and Monkey laughed, not out of disrespect, more out of the way Crane said his piece, taking an overly serious approach to what was supposed to be a relaxed and loose tradition.

"Relax a minute bird-brain" Mantis exclaimed, half joking, "There's no need to get your feathers in a ruffle."

Crane huffed and shook his head, "I'm perfectly calm thank you" Crane continued, "Figures you would take her side though. I always did get the short end of the stick."

Crane turned to Oogway and sighed, rubbing the feathers on his head in order to give himself something to do. His mind slowly began pulling and tugging at his heart, he wanted to say everything that had been clouding his mind for years, the reasons behind his meditation, to speak of the family that he once had; instead he hung his head in shame and cried.

"Why did you choose me?" Crane declared, speaking to Oogway, who only leaned on his staff and nodded patiently, as if he had already heard Crane's words before they were even spoken, "What good is a rice farmer in a temple like this?"

Oogway said nothing and slowly turned away, making the slow back to the temple. Crane, for his part, nodded and returned his gaze to the Five, only for Shifu to stand between them.

"What do you want?" Crane asked, in no mood for discussion, "Look at me, I'm pathetic."

Shifu sighed, it was painful and sad, still Crane detected a small whisper of hope. He glanced behind him to discover that the goose, Ping, was still present, waiting patiently as if something was on his mind.

"See to your friend Crane" Shifu instructed carefully, "Maybe he can make things clearer."

Crane turned around and stared at Ping, who humbly bowed as if he were standing before the Emperor himself. Shifu, meanwhile, ushered the others back to the platform while the crowd before the temple began to disperse, seeing no reason to stay for nothing.

"You don't have to do that" Crane said, annoyed and a bit hurt, "I'm not who you think I am."

The goose shook his head in denial and smiled, extending his wing in greeting, deciding to be proper.

"Mr. Ping" he exclaimed, "It is an honor Mister Crane. Are you hungry, do you need anything?"

Crane looked up for a moment, trying to remember if he had breakfast or if he had skipped it once again. If memory served him correctly the only thing he had was a rice cake, barely substantial and hardly considered a meal.

"I'm starting to get a little peckish" Crane admitted, "Why, you know a good place to eat?"

Mr. Ping nodded and casually laughed to himself, gesturing the crane to follow; Crane looked back at the temple, the platform was still there and Oogway was not yet even five feet away and still within earshot. Part of him wanted to help Oogway back into the palace, if only to try and earn with the other members of the Five, but another part of him, told him to follow Mr. Ping. Deciding that it wouldn't make a difference whether he did anything or not to help Oogway in terms of how the Five saw him, Crane resigned himself to Mr. Ping's company and walked down the street, blending in with the last few stragglers from the exhibition.


	3. The Pupil

Chapter Three: The Pupil

Mr. Ping's noddle shop was the quaintest building in the entire city. There were no adornments or fanciful advertisements to speak of, the only signs present were those that marked the days of the year and important city events, such as the Dragon Warrior Ceremony, which was circled in red ink. In terms of furniture, most of the tables, scattered randomly around the room, were low, the guests sitting on mats and kneeling, as is Chinese custom.

"Nice place" Crane said as he walked through, accepting Mr. Ping's hospitality and entering the establishment.

"Thank you" Mr. Ping answered promptly, "It's not much, but it's enough."

Crane nodded, trying to sympathize despite the fact that he never had such an experience. He often wished for a simpler and wondered what it would be like if he had opened a shop like Mr. Ping or Torus, if he would have been happy; he wasn't entirely sure, but if it was one thing he was sure of it was that he admired those who made a living providing a service to others, especially ones involving food or other basic necessities, it made the big problems seems simple and mundane and the issues that no one paid any attention to mean the world.

Mr. Ping casually looked around, the restaurant was relatively empty, for it was still early in the morning and not yet noon, where most of the business was made; he shouted to the top of his small lungs, his body lifting up slightly off the ground in the effort.

"Po!" Mr. Ping began, waddling around the space, wiping his feet as he went, "Po, get in here, we have a guest!"

On the far left wall of the main dining area was a door, through this door was the kitchen, through which Po, carrying several bowls of soup, noodles and crackers in his hands, on his arms and head, entered at Mr. Ping's summons. The panda, who had been in the kitchen all throughout the morning preparing meals for the lunch rush; was covered almost entirely in noodle juices, tomato paste and barley, and smelled of brunt rice and old cheese.

"The lunch rush is taken care of" Po exclaimed, setting the food down on the large counter, around which were stools, near the door, "The dishes have been done, the floors have been swept and my room has been cleaned-"

Mr. Ping raised his hand, cutting Po off; turning towards Crane, he slowly began introductions.

"Po, this is-"

Taking the initiative, Crane bowed as low as he could, trying his best to be respectful and to humble himself; as far as he was concerned, the rank and authority of the temple had been temporarily voided when he entered the shop.

"Lao Din" Crane replied, using an old alias, "The pleasure is mine, you seem to be doing quite well for yourself."

Po shrugged indifferently and took the nearest available seat, which cracked and squeaky with the additional weight.

"Yeah I guess" Po answered, "I just wish I could have gone to the ceremony. Must've been something."

Mr. Ping gently moved towards Po, trying his best to comfort him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Crane, who righted himself and stood respectfully, couldn't help but think back to his own childhood; for unlike most of the Five, Crane was not taken to the temple as a youth and as a result had a childhood of which to speak of. One of Crane's earliest memories was of his father, who after a long day of working the fields, would come into Crane's room a few minutes before bed and read. The stories were simple in nature and thus not very long, but they stuck with him all the same; one particular story, about a panda who sat under a tree dreaming of one day climbing to the tallest bamboo tree, if only to look out on the world and the stars above them, came to the bird's mind. Why, he couldn't be sure, maybe it was something to do with the fact that Po was a panda, or maybe it was something else entirely.

"You didn't miss much" Crane exclaimed, moving closer, "I've never much cared for ceremonies. Too impersonal, too formal- even for the Dragon Warrior."

Po stood up and immediately faced Crane at this, as if the words were insulting or simply impossible to hear. Mr. Ping, immediately got on the defensive and stepped between Po and Crane, trying his best to calm him down.

"Now Po come on" Mr. Ping said, "I know you're upset, and I'm sorry. But you can't let this be the only thing you care about. There's more to life."

Crane smiled, for hearing his own words back at him did his heart some good, it made him feel easier about his own uncertainty and gave weight to things that were previously weightless baggage and useless words. Still, he could help but notice Po's look of defeat and sadness, as if Mr. Ping had taken a dagger and cut out his soul. Crane had seen this look before, he bore on several occasions, when the world became too hard and too cruel. It was the look of failure and a loss of complete and total trust. The monk, not wanting to see Mr. Ping, for he had come to like the goose, suffer the loss of a child, made his move and began to rectify Mr. Ping's statement.

"It's alright" Crane said, swooping in from behind and getting on Po's opposite side, "Everybody's got to have dreams."

Po nodded and allowed himself to smile; turning towards him and gesturing slightly to the nearest available stool, the panda began to make idle small talk.

"What about you?" Po asked, "What's your dream Din?"

In truth Crane had never been truly asked what he wanted out of life, not even by Master Shifu and the Five. Kung-fu was the only thing they had in common, everything else, including other aspirations and fantasies were irrelevant; they existed to protect the people from danger and to spread their teachings throughout the providence to the best of the their ability. If Crane had been asked two years ago what his dream was he would have said something along the lines of reaching complete and total harmony with himself; but now, he was not entirely sure, for Crane, being a realist, recognized quickly that total harmony on a permanent basis was an impossibility.

"Settle down maybe?" Crane answered, speaking honestly, "Open a store, start a farm; a family. Have children that will grow into better people than I could ever hope to be, and eventually die: in my sleep, watching the sunrise, next to my wife, as long as it were peaceful."

Po stared at Crane with a half confused look on his face, not expecting the answer to be taken to such extremes and more on the theoretical side of conversation. Mr. Ping however, smiled and nodded to himself, his eyes wet; in his head visualizing Crane, his dream and the good fortune that came with it.

"Long and happy life right?" Mr. Ping replied, winking a bit at Crane, who nodded subtly, catching that the goose was referring, like Shifu before him, to the symbolic nature of his species, "That's good, there is honor in that."

Po, bored with the conversation, rose from his place and made his way up the stairs to his room. Mr. Ping causally motioned Crane to follow, after which he too, rose from his seat, making his way into the kitchen to finish preparations for lunch. Taking the hint and sighing, in his head wondering how the next twenty minutes were going to play out, Crane carefully made his way up the stairs.

Po's room was, like the rest of the house, modest, yet, being a living space, was more decorative than the restaurant. A calendar on the wall with images of Tigress, Mantis and Monkey covering the month's page hung on the wall, once again the Dragon Warrior ceremony circled in red. On the wall opposite the door was a series of shelves and a desk, on which were several figurines, most of which were primitive, but some, like those of the Five, intricate and detailed, strangely, Crane's figurine was nowhere to be found, in its place Qiniang, poised and ready for combat. In addition to the figurines there were also several drawings, most of them of a crudely drawn panda, whom Crane presumed to be Po himself, standing before a great pack of leopards; at the Jade Palace, practicing with Master Shifu and Oogway; with Viper, hiding amongst the trees, waiting for an ambush. Finally, on the back wall, a simple bed and a bookcase full of books and scrolls, all on kung-fu history and lore.

Po sat at his desk, haplessly playing with his Tigress and Monkey figurines when Crane stood at the door. The bird's gentle rapping and slight bow, caused him to stop and turn, if only to acknowledge Crane's existence, after which the panda proceeded with his toys.

"I didn't see you come in" Po said, trying his best to sound cheerful and failing.

"Don't worry" Crane replied, "I wasn't waiting long-"

Crane carefully glided into the room, taking a quick look about the space, resting once again on Po who became his only concern.

"Nice place you got" Crane began, trying to start a conversation, "I've never seen a room with so much stuff dedicated to one thing."

Po huffed and shook his head, "Kung-fu is not a 'thing'" he defended, "Its kung-fu."

Crane laughed humbly to himself, for he once had similar sentiments, back before he received proper training with Shifu and had no knowledge as to what kung-fu really was other than that Qiniang was a student in it.

"If you believe that then why didn't you go to the ceremony?" Crane replied, answering with a question, " Surely your shop could've managed for a few hours?"

"I know!" Po exclaimed, almost immediately, "That's what I told him. I mean it's not like we have customers during that time anyway, everyone's already out and had breakfast; they're not thinking about noodles, especially when it's the Dragon Warrior ceremony. But-"

Crane laughed again and smiled, guessing where Po's story was going and finishing it for him, trying to avoid the possibility of Po saying it and thus making it into a reality.

"But your father said that you couldn't" Crane finished, "He needs you to help with customers and run the store to help put food on the table."

Po nodded a second time, going so far as to embrace Crane as tight as he could.

"See?" Po exclaimed, rhetorically, speaking breaking away and not giving Crane the opportunity to respond, "You understand Din, you get it. Noodles and soup. That's not me. I want adventure! Excitement, a little bit of danger! Not-"

Po stopped and hung his head, afraid to continue. Turning around and taking a seat on the bed, Po gave a long and heavy sigh before looking up at Crane, who remained where he was, a sad and concerned look on his face.

"I love my Dad" Po declared, not really sure where to begin, "And I know that he means well, he's only looking out for me, but I can't help it. Kung-fu is all I know, it's what I live and breathe. I can't get rid of it, its part of who I am."

Crane, who was getting tired of Po feeling sorry for himself, shook his head pitifully and silently forgave himself, Shifu, and Oogway for what he was about to do; but do he did regardless. Rolling his neck and stretching himself out, Crane mentally prepared himself and casually motioned to Po.

"Show me" Crane said simply.

Po raised his eyebrows curiously, confused as to what Crane was doing, "What?" Po said in turn, "What are you getting at?"

Crane laughed and shook his head playfully, deciding that he would humor the panda.

"You said that you lived and breathed kung-fu" Crane reiterated, "If so, prove it. Show me what you can do."

Po stood indifferently and rolled his eyes, on a personal level the panda was not in the mood for sparring, in part because he had never done it before and in part because he was still torn up about the ceremony that all spirit had been drained from him. He much preferred the company of his own mind, for it was only there where the world made sense; where he was a hero.

Getting into a lax stance, his arms barely up and his legs as stiff as boards, Po began to take the first swing. Crane, at seeing this display, stopped himself from outright bringing him down and instead relaxed his arms and began to teach.

"Here" Crane exclaimed as he walked over, leaning down, "Keep your legs shoulder length apart and bend your knees, you'll need to be flexible."

With a quick and light chop to Po's legs, Crane corrected the stiff boards, temporarily throwing the panda off balance. The bird then, effortlessly, shuffled through the open space that Po's legs provided and came out the other side, checking the panda's back posture.

"Loosen up" Crane instructed, "The acid build-up isn't good for your muscles. You need to breathe. Stand up straight and relax your shoulders, it'll save your arms when you need them for quick strikes and jabs."

Po, now paying attention, slowly let out his breath, for he had been holding ever since he stood up, and straightened out his back; Crane, in response, moved around to the front.

"Now since you're a panda and a big one you're going to have to compensate for your weight. What you lack in speed, make up in strength."

Po immediately looked down at his gut solemnly, Crane smiled and casually laughed, shaking his head.

"Don't take it personally" Crane continued, "For you it's a good thing. Now, come on, show me your ready face."

Po furrowed his eyebrows and crunched his nose, tilting his head slightly down, playing on theatrics. Crane, seeing what he was doing, wanted to say something to correct it his pragmatism kicking in more than usual; however, he said nothing, if only out to see what would happen. Po lifted his head, his eyes serious and full of purpose and instantly began waving his hands around in an abstract motion.

"So you think you can take me on?" Po asked, delving into his fantasy, "Well, let's see how you fair against the Mighty Po, Protector of the Valley of Peace!"

Crane, who couldn't help but laugh internally to himself at Po's ridiculous introduction, shrugged and smiled, deciding to humor him further. Dropping into his stance, Crane prepared for the defense, reminding himself that he was in a place of residence and not the sparring room at the temple.

"Ready when you are" Crane replied, accepting Po's banter and giving some of his own, keeping the illusion alive, "Come on, if you have the stomach for it."

Giving a weak punch that barely did anything to Crane, who recognizing the panda's lack of ability, pantomimed and fell to floor, Po laughed and followed with an equally pitifully kick to Crane's torso. The bird, resisting the urge to sweep kick Po off of his feet and down to the ground in pain, stood up as slowly as possible and wiped his beak, pretending to be bleeding.

"Got you good didn't I?" Po continued, laying on the insults as best he could, which wasn't really well.

"You talk too much" Crane replied, rolling his neck again, if only for dramatic effect, "Spar or sit down and cry."

Po shook his head in full disagreement, completely immersed in his own mind.

"Ha!" Po exclaimed cockily, "You would like that wouldn't you? The Mighty Po never gives up, never surrenders. Especially to bald strutting chickens like you."

At being called a bald strutting chicken, Crane, who was incredibly sensitive about his crown, being that it had few feathers to speak of, broke character and the act temporarily; performing a sweep, followed by a knee trap and a jump kick to the face, leaving the panda on the ground, writhing in slight pain and disbelief.

"Don't ever call me a chicken" Crane declared as he pulled himself together at the same time pulling Po to his feet, who shook off the incident as if nothing happened.

"Where'd you learn that?" Po said enthusiastically, "That was pretty impressive stuff."

Crane brushed him off and huffed nonchalantly, returning to his character of Din.

"I picked up a few things in the wetlands" Crane answered, ironically speaking the truth, "You never know when that stuff might come in handy."

Po stood in awe, a strange and glowing look of wonder struck his face, as if a small glimmer of hope had entered his heart and renewed his spirit.

"Do you think you teach me?" Po continued, over-eagerly, "Just enough to where I can say that I know something."

Crane thought for a moment, considering the consequences if he agreed to the terms. Technically speaking, as a member of the Furious Five he was forbidden to take on a pupil, having not been inducted as a true Master, yet, for some reason he saw something in Po that reminded him of himself: passion. Crane was instantly reminded of the days before his induction into the Five, when it was known as the Furious Four, the only thing that he had was passion, there was no inherent skill to be found, yet still despite this, Oogway took him on anyway. Maybe, if Po was given this same opportunity, he could live the life he wanted.

"I'll do you one better" Crane exclaimed, "I can get you an audience with Crane; we're good friends and he owes me. He might take you on."

Po, at hearing this, instantly become infused with the energy of a rabbit, bouncing in place and jittering excitedly, unable to contain his excitement. The panda embraced Crane again, this time tighter than the last and almost cutting off the bird's air supply.

"Thank you!" Po said, almost to the point of screaming, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Crane, struggling to breathe, gently tapped Po's shoulder, who took the hint and released him. Once he began breathing normally again, Crane stood and gave a slight nod Po's way, bowing as he took his leave.

"You're a good kid Po" Crane declared, "Meet me tomorrow in front of the palace. I'll get you an audience with Crane and we'll go from there."

Po nodded and ran over to his calendar to circle the date, he then turned back to Crane.

"You're alright Din" Po said calmly, his heart warm and words currently failing him, "Thank you for giving me a chance."

As Crane made his way down the steps he could hear Po celebrate to himself, screaming and yelling to the top of the world. Shaking his head and laughing, the bird smiled and looked up, hoping that he would be forgiven for his actions.

Mr. Ping, holding his conical hat that was too large for his head and a box, in which was a fresh bowl of noodles, was patiently waiting for Crane at the bottom of the stairs. Upon seeing the bird's lanky frame, the goose extended both the hat and the box to him with a smile on his face.

"What's this for?" Crane asked, partially holding them as he stepped back a bit, surprised that he was being offered gifts.

"I heard what you said" Mr. Ping answered promptly, "I know that you didn't have to do that and you're probably risking a lot, but thank you. I may not like it, but my son is everything to me. As long as he is happy, I am happy."

Crane nodded and took the box, now understanding its meaning, the hat however, was still a mystery. Mr. Ping, seeing this, chuckled and shook his head.

"Keep it" the goose continued, "It'll look better on you anyway. Besides, Po's right, you kind of do look like a bald chicken."

Crane smiled and rolled his eyes, accepting his own genetics and shrugging it off, he then let out a thankful laugh and kneeled down, embracing Mr. Ping with all the care in the world.

"You've been good to me" Crane said as he broke away, putting on the hat, "Your kindness and your hospitality will not be forgotten. Anything you need, no matter how big or how small, you come to me and I'll see it done. You have my word on that."

Mr. Ping nodded and returned Crane's smile, showing that the feeling was mutual.

"Right now" the goose exclaimed, "My son is the only thing I need."

Crane stood only to bow, after which he waved goodbye and took his leave out the front door, taking to the air and returning to the temple just as the lunch crowd began to enter the shop.


	4. The Breaking of the Covenant

Chapter Four: The Breaking of the Covenant

Later that night, as the mayflies gathered for their 72 hours of life outside the window, Crane lit a lantern, and from his loft, where he slept the most, took a piece of parchment and began to write.

 _So it seems that Din has entered my life once again and I am poorer for it. By even mentioning the name I risk breaking the covenant with Oogway and the teachings of the Way; a risk that at the time seemed worth taking, if only for the curiosity. Still, if nothing else, Din has provided me with a way to connect and I suppose I should thank him for it. In due time._

 _When I came to this place the only thing that I had was an old knapsack, in which I kept the few possessions that I owned: a few pictures, mostly of family; a letter, addressed to me by my father; the original conical hat (sadly lost); and a feather. The last of these holds the most value to me now, in part because it is small and easily concealable and of its immense sentimental value. Master Oogway and Shifu took everything else, burned it in a great bonfire on my coronation to symbolize the death of my old life and the birth of the one I had entered._

Crane stopped writing and looked over his work, he then stared at the quill he had been using and smiled; for this was the feather that he had spoken of. In an effort of preservation, Crane had fashioned it to serve a functional purpose; thus hiding it from Oogway and Shifu, who although lenient in most matters, took the issue of past lives and ties seriously to the point of expulsion.

"The protection of the valley is a full time job, one that may require your life" Shifu exclaimed on his induction, "In order to ensure your protection, and those around you, all ties must be severed-"

The mayflies continued their soft hum as they began their mating calls for the hour. Crane laughed and for a moment pitied the mayfly for its short lifespan; yet, for some reason could not help but envy it for it experienced everything there was to experience in the shortest amount of time allotted to a species. He often wished that he would find something, find someone that would bring him happiness. This thought in his head, he continued writing, if only for its own sake.

 _The mayflies that are mingling around my window have the right idea. Live now while you still can, do everything you want to do now because tomorrow is never a certainty. The Way teaches us patience even when we are without the luxury; often times it asks for too high a price than any reward it could possibly bring, yet we are supposed to take it in stride with the knowledge that at the end of our lives, when all is said and done, we will have been vindicated._

 _As the soft hum of the mayflies' call, barely audible even now, reaches my ears, I can only think how sad it must be to be one of them. To a mayfly the act of reproduction is a necessity, a survival tactic meant to carry the next generation who have no other calling greater than that of their predecessors. This is most unfortunate, especially in regards to love and companionship. In the span of 72 hours the mayfly must be born, find a nesting place, a partner, breed, and die. Most of us can't even get past the first few stages of life, let alone find a lasting partner with which to face the world._

 _My reflections on the mayfly and the dual message that they carry: the precious and small moments of life, as well as its seeming futility, have been met with relatively negative views among the other Five. They do not understand the concept nor do they wish to. Their goals are singular, their vision tunneled to one thing: kung-fu. There is more to life. There has to be, else there is no reason to protect, no reason to serve, no reason to continue living._

A single drop of water dripping down on the parchment interrupted him, causing Crane to stop. Looking up at the ceiling, expecting to find a leak only to find nothing; it was a few seconds before Crane realized that the water was his own tears. He never considered himself a sentimentalist, yet here he was, crying his eyes out over the fate of mayflies. He found it ridiculous that he was able to cry over such things, for he was not a mayfly and not doomed to such a fate, for Crane was still relatively young in terms of his species and there was still time for such things. Overcome with emotion, yet not outside of himself, Crane continued his account with the intensity of a melodrama: have little in terms of substance and driven solely by singular emotions and thoughts ultimately serving no clear purpose other than to vent and cleanse himself of pain.

 _What is my reason for living? I do not know. Part of me does not wish to know, but that would mean living in ignorance, which is something that I cannot not allow not because I would not know but because the opportunity for answers to questions that I have sought for years would have come and gone like the whispers in the wind. I must know. Find purpose, a real purpose, one that is beneficial solely to me and me alone. For too long I have sacrificed my own personal happiness and security in favor of giving it to others; but how can I give happiness and security if I never had it to begin with?_

 _I know that by saying these things I am denouncing and blatantly disregarding everything that I have come to know. Let me be clear, if only for the account of my life should it ever come to matter, that I am not doing so intentionally. Happiness, security, and all things of its kind come in different forms and vary in degrees; for me I seek a different kind of happiness, a different kind of security than the ones provided by the Five, the Masters, and the palace. What this happiness and security are is up to me to discover, for it can only be mine._

Shaking and slowly pulling himself together, Crane rolled up his scrolls and descended to the ground, heading towards the sparring room where he knew he would find Shifu and the others, going through the final training exercise of the day.

By the time Crane had entered the room, Monkey and Tigress had already completed their duties; Mantis and Viper meanwhile, were high in the large obstacle course going through final motions. Shifu was sitting quietly on a barrel on the far side of the room, watching their progress, Oogway, who never came to sparring practices, was next to him, leaning on his staff making mental notes. Crane, trying to as little noise as possible to avoid interruption, took lightly to the air and hovered next to Monkey, who said nothing, deciding to give the bird the benefit of the doubt.

Mantis and Viper made their way to the ground floor with ease, stopping before Shifu and Oogway and bowing their heads in reverence despite the fact that it was not necessary. The Masters, in turn, waved them away towards Monkey and Tigress, saying nothing. Slithering and slinking their way to their places, Mantis and Viper, who also noticed Crane, casually smiled and nodded encouragingly, gesturing for the bird to approach. Crane, who did not need the hint, for he was well on the way to Oogway and Shifu in his mind, returned the gesture and slowly began to strut forward, finally stopping before Shifu's barrel.

"Why do you come and so late?" Shifu asked, concern and worry in his voice, causing Crane to bow his head in shame and remove his hat.

"Forgive me Master" Crane began softly, his confidence lost and his reasoning scattered by Shifu's voice, which to Crane was demanding and uncharacteristically harsh, "I was meditating on the mayflies again sir. They do fascinate me so."

Oogway laughed and shook his head, "It is more than just fascination if you ask me" the tortoise declared, "Missing dinner and an entire session, contemplating insects! Who does that?"

Crane shrugged and sheepishly smiled, for hearing it made it sound completely insane despite its spiritual rationality.

"A crane who wishes to be more than what he currently is" Crane answered promptly, knowing that to ask more of oneself was against all the teaching that he had been taught and yet, for a moment his brain did not care.

Oogway nodded and closed his eyes, giving a heavy sigh.

"So you wish to leave?" Oogway replied, giving a rhetorical question, "You wish to break your covenant, strike out on your own?"

Crane raised his eyebrows in confusion, for that was not what he was implying, not in the slightest, in fact he was thinking the exact opposite, to request an audition for the title of Master in the hopes of gaining respect and teach Po validly when the time came instead of having to run around the politics and hierarchy of the temple.

"Not at all" Crane defended quickly, "I was just-"

Oogway raised his hand, silencing him. Shifu, in response, looked at the tortoise and then at Crane, trying to find anything that would help him make sense of things.

"I can sense your heart" Oogway continued, "You have already decided. Go now, in peace, or as much as you will allow."

Shifu turned to Oogway, his eyes wet and full of fear and worry; it was inconceivable for him to lose Crane, who had become in many ways like a son, in the same status as Monkey, Mantis, Tigress, and Viper, who he also saw as his children. It was painful, like losing an appendage.

"Master please" Shifu cut in, stalling for time, "Let him speak for himself."

Oogway shook his head and sighed, turning away and refusing to look at anything, much less Shifu, who would otherwise sway his opinion and cause him to rethink his decision.

"What he is seeking he will not be able to find here" Oogway said, leaning against the wall, "Let him go Shifu. Let him find himself in his own way, then, when he is ready he may return."

Silence slowly filled the room. Crane stood firm, his face stoic and without feeling; his mind recounting all the times that he had considered leaving and never once taking the opportunity. Now, an opportunity had no only presented itself but had been offered open-handedly by Oogway himself; granted it was in part a test, Crane knew this, Shifu knew this, and everyone else knew this, but it was still an act of leaving. Bringing his head down almost to the floor and back up, Crane looked Oogway in the eyes with all the seriousness in the world, sighed for a moment in regret and began his piece.

"If it true that I am to be cast out than let it be known that I am no longer worthy of any titles or honors. Strip me of it all, grant me no quarter. Return what is rightfully mine by birth. Let me be Lao Din once more and let the title Crane belong to someone who is more deserving."

Shifu jumped down from his barrel and stood between them in an attempt to stall and possibly alter the decision.

"Crane you cannot do this" Shifu begged, grasping the bird's chest, "I will not allow it. You are a member of the Furious Five, what will happen with you gone? Who will keep them in line?"

Crane huffed and shook his head, he admired Shifu and his efforts, but as far as he was concerned Oogway had spoken the truth.

"It is not your decision to make" Crane retorted, looking slightly to the left in order to avoid direct eye contact, "Besides you managed well before with the Furious Four. What makes this any different?"

Shifu gently touched Crane's face, forcing the bird to pay attention and stare into his eyes, wanting to be sure that he knew his pain and the difficulty it took to even consider the notion of banishment.

"Because we have you Crane" Shifu answered, "And you make all the difference. How can you not see your own importance? Not only the moral center but in many ways the standard of which to live! Is that not enough purpose, not enough destiny? What must we do to make you content, to make you happy?"

Crane laughed and grabbed Shifu's hand, lowering it, ultimately clasping it with his wing and shaking it as if he were greeting an old friend. Embracing him, for that was the only thing that he felt he could do, Shifu silently began to cry, to which Crane shook his head in denial and smiled.

"Do not cry for me" Crane said as he wrapped himself around, "I am not worthy for any tears you shed."

Shifu cried nonetheless despite every instinct telling him not to, to be strong, not for Crane, or for himself, but for the others, who stood in silent disbelief, refusing to believe the scene that was in front of them.

"If only you could see what I see" Shifu returned, "Maybe then-"

Crane broke away and nodded, stopping the Master in his tracks.

"I can only hope Master Shifu" Crane exclaimed as he made his way towards the door, "Until our next meeting: may the warm currents raise you up, that you might soar."

Shifu did the only thing he could do and granted Crane the namaskar, which he had picked up and adopted from his travels in the western borderlands, a sign of great respect and a traditional greeting and parting among the inhabitants who lived there. Crane, in turn, stopped and did the same despite not knowing its meaning or overall significance. As he made his way towards the door, Tigress and the others stopped him, refusing to allow him to pass until they had their say in the matter.

Crane sighed and hung his head at the blockade, for he had expected as much, especially from Mantis and Viper, who were the friendliest among the remaining four.

"There is nothing you can say or do that will change my mind" Crane defended, guessing their ultimate aim, "This is just something I have to do; for me."

Tigress nodded, it was difficult for her to understand his reasoning, for she did not have the questions that he had nor would she ever; still, she could not help but respect it.

"There is no shame in doing what you believe is right" Tigress replied, "If this is what you need to do to come back to us, by all means do it."

Mantis and Monkey could only nod in agreement, for they could not have said it better themselves.

"Stay safe out there buddy" Mantis said warmly, showing his full support, "Don't forget to write us. I want weekly updates."

Crane chuckled to himself, for not only would that be incredibly unrealistic, especially considering that he had no idea how long he would be gone or if he would ever return; yet Mantis was talking like he were just going for a weekend fishing trip. It was comforting to think about, knowing that he would always have a place when he needed it.

"Here" Crane continued, pulling out his scrolls, several pages long, years of writing, "Keep this safe for me."

Mantis, who guessed what it was, nodded again and watched as Crane set them on the ground; he would remember to retrieve them, of that he promised himself.

Viper, for her part, went a step further than the others, embracing Crane as tightly as she would allow and gently kissing his cheek as it meant something. To Crane, it was her own way of saying goodbye and to help him remember his promise to her; to Viper, it was this and a little more. Crane, sensing this, could only shake his head in remorse and guilt, the idea an impossible one, existing only in fantasy, largely of Viper's creation.

"I wish you all the best" Crane said as he wriggled himself out, Viper refusing to let go if only to keep him for a few seconds longer, "Promise me that you will never lose your ability of loving other people for what they are, the world could use more of that."

Viper nodded and smiled hopefully, the words familiar and fatherly, comforting; giving her the feeling of tackling the world.

"You come back" Viper declared, half joking and half serious, "You still owe me that flight."

Crane laughed and gave a gentle wave, happy that he had been reminded even though it was far from necessary. With this, he made his way outside to his tree, where he retired for the night, his last thought being Po and what he was going to do about it, for his next few steps would be the most important.


	5. The Story of the Goose and the Swan

Chapter Five: The Story of the Goose and the Swan

Climbing the steps that led to the Jade Palace, Mr. Ping, a small walking stick in hand, could only look at the enthusiastic giddiness that his son possessed as he made his ascent to the gate and smile. He knew that this was the beginning of a much larger story, one that did not likely include him; and it pained him to think that in the span of 765 steps, from the base to the summit at the gates, that he would lose everything he had come to know. Waddling as carefully as he could, if only to preserve what memories he would have, Mr. Ping began to think, and as he thought he began to worry.

"Po" Mr. Ping began, raising his voice a bit, for Po was a few steps in front of him, "Are you sure about this?"

Po nodded, "Yeah" he answered excitedly, "its goanna be great! I'll be learning from the Masters themselves. Tigress' fists, Monkey's staff of righteousness, Mantis's puncturing wound, Viper's tail slash! All of their signatures. I might even get to meet Master Shifu, this is great!"

Mr. Ping nodded carefully, measuring Po and trying to read him; he wanted to be sure that this is what he wanted. When Crane first came to him Mr. Ping thought nothing of it, taking the bird's offer as a mere visit, it was only after did he realize that he was offering Po a chance to learn kung-fu and become the very thing that Mr. Ping swore he never would be.

"This can only bring trouble" Mr. Ping said to himself, not really caring if Po heard him or not, for the time had long since passed that Po listened to his grievances when it came to kung-fu, "Kung-fu is for certain types of people. Risk-takers. Not noodle makers and their sons, especially not pandas. The day that Po becomes a kung-fu master is the day that I become a soothsayer."

Po began dancing up the stairs as if he had just won a prize for over-enthusiasm, having unhealthy obsessions, and unrealistic goals and was ignorant in that he possessed all of these things and many more that would make even Mr. Ping, who also had some knowledge of basic of kung-fu history, living in the city as well as being a former collector, seem competent.

"Po" Mr. Ping said, starting over, nervousness and fear settling in, "Just remember, if it doesn't work out you always have a place. I know it's not what you want and I'm sorry, I did my best, I just hope that you don't-"

Mr. Ping was cut off with a massive bear hug, Po having listened for a few seconds and taking in the meaning of his father's words.

"Don't worry" Po replied, "It's not like I'm going away forever. It's just one day, one session that's all. It's not like they're going to recruit me or anything."

Mr. Ping nodded, he still had his doubts of course, he did not want to air them in and leave on bad terms; but he also made no effort in hiding his discontent. Breaking away from the embrace, the goose ushered Po forward and began to walk beside him, after a few moments of silence, Mr. Ping stared at his son, his eyes hopeful and full of pride.

"You know when I first opened my noodle shop I had wanted to go into the tofu business" Mr. Ping declared, "But noodles were cheaper and easy to make."

Po chuckled to himself, for he had heard this story countless times before.

"Yeah I know" Po exclaimed, "You opened the shop, started making the noodles and then when people started coming in you didn't want to change anything because you thought that if you did they would be unhappy."

Mr. Ping smiled, laughed and shook his head, remembering the days when the line was out the door and around the block; all for cheap noodles.

"You know me too well" Mr. Ping admitted, "But there is another reason why I never went into the tofu business. At the time it seemed rather silly, maybe it still is, but there was once a time when I was young and stupid that I was in love."

Po stood beside himself, it was difficult to believe that his father, who had known to be a bit of an eccentric, as well as laughably clumsy and a general goof when he wanted to be, had once been in love. The idea was completely foreign to him, if only because he had not had a similar experience, being sheltered and naïve when it came to such matters.

"What was she like?" Po asked, half curious, but mostly humoring his father, who seemed hell bent on having the conversation.

Mr. Ping shrugged nonchalantly, partially giving his answer and not really giving it at the same time. Sighing and searching for a place to begin, Mr. Ping stopped and casually sat down on the steps, bidding Po do the same; he did so, after which the goose twiddled his feathers for a moment and swayed his feet as if he were a child, his legs being particularly short, as well as an attempt, albeit a desperate attempt, at childish humor.

"It was a long time ago you see" Mr. Ping began as he looked over the city, noticing the lush green hills and the blooming trees, "Well before you were born. I had just come into the city after spending some time in the west. My apprenticeship was complete, my grandfather having sent me away to study the art of noodle-making and other cuisines. It was not a day after I returned that I saw the most beautiful creature in all the world."

Po rolled his eyes, he could only guess where the story was going and immediately denounced anything that Mr. Ping had to say, if only because he had heard it in countless other stories before.

"Let me guess" Po interjected, "Love at first sight right? Come on Dad, that's an old scene, it's been done."

Mr. Ping laughed and shook his head, for Po could not have been further from the truth, in fact, so far was he from it that it was almost insulting.

"Life doesn't work that way" Mr. Ping corrected, "No, it was much harder. You see, swans and geese aren't really compatible, true there are some similarities, but the differences are many and great."

Po raised his eyebrows and huffed, "What a minute?" Po continued, "She was a swan? Are you telling me-"

Mr. Ping shrugged again and shook his head pitifully, answering Po's question before he even finished it.

"Like I said" Mr. Ping defended, "I was young and stupid. We didn't have a lot in common at first to tell you the truth. In fact, in the beginning we couldn't stand each other. She would want to go on these adventures: to the jungles, the lakes, the mountains, and see things no one else had seen before. I wanted to stay in the city. I had seen enough of the world, it was jarring; I needed something stable."

Po scratched his head, for now the story wasn't making anything in the way of sense, it was contradictory and partially annoying, there was no action to speak of, nothing to keep him interested for any length of time; yet, if only because he wanted to understand, and in part to be nice to his father, Po humored him further and pried.

"So what did you do?" he asked, "How can you love someone and not get along? That doesn't make any sense."

Mr. Ping casually waved, signaling for Po to stand; after which he continued up the steps, waddling as so to save time.

"What do you think I did?" the goose said rhetorically, "I went with her."

Before Po could retort, Mr. Ping turned and immediately gave an answer, if only to speed up the process and possibly, the panda's understanding.

"Love can make you do things you never thought possible, even things that scare you."

Po sighed, on a personal level he hated it when his father started giving advice, it made him seem as if he were inferior in some way, as if there was always another lesson, always another thing to consider or an obstacle to overcome. The only thing that Po wanted to do, more than anything else in the world, was kung-fu, even just a little bit would have satisfied his appetite, yet, here he was, listening to his father talk about old flames on the steps of the palace. Close, and yet so far from where he wanted to be.

"What's your point Dad?" Po said anxiously, "That love is the greatest power we can have? That fear is an illusion and the only thing that we have to fear is our own insecurity?"

Mr. Ping wanted to slap Po as hard as he could, for even though he had spoken the truth, or at least part of it, he had done it with so arrogance and disrespect that it negated every single word, burying it with sarcasm and frustration. Instead of this however, Mr. Ping, heeding the words of his long dead father, kept his composure and continued his story, hoping that by the end of it, Po would understand.

"Once, we had come to a waterfall. This was after weeks and weeks of excursions and escapades; we had come to know each other. We knew each other's family histories: she came from a long line of artisans, from bakers to blacksmiths. We knew what foods we liked, what we didn't like, our favorite poems and places to relax. We had become fast friends. Yet, there was always something more, underneath the surface. It was by that waterfall, surrounded by trees, lily pads and mayflies that we began courtship."

Mr. Ping stopped for a moment, a small tear was in his eye; it was not a sad tear, but a happy one, full of memory and hope, the kind that one dares to let fall. Smiling as he felt it run down his cheek, Mr. Ping began to laugh inexplicably, it was soft and gentle, but constant.

"She died soon after. One day she just got sick and never recovered. Oh, she would have loved to meet you Po. You have her spirit."

Po, who had been lagging behind for the last few minutes, still within earshot, was confused at Mr. Ping's behavior; for he was speaking of someone who had died, someone he had loved, and laughing as if it were the happiest thing in the entire world.

"Why is that funny?" Po asked as he caught up, "She's dead. How can you be laughing about that?"

Mr. Ping shook his head in denial and gently waved him off, for Po was misinterpreting him entirely.

"You misunderstand" Mr. Ping clarified, slowly calming himself to prevent further confusion, "I was crushed. I didn't eat for almost seven days, practically starved myself to death. It was only after that I came to realize in those few moments that we had, we experienced everything."

The goose turned to Po and placed his wing on the panda's shoulder, trying to connect. Po, in turn, noticed his eyes and how bright they seemed, almost as if the universe had taken the night sky and had placed all the stars within them. It was a strange analogy, but still Po thought about it, and because of this, recognized the gravity of the conversation and the weight that Mr. Ping's words carried, and so he listened, both with his ears and with his heart.

"I could not have asked for a greater gift" Mr. Ping concluded, "Then, out of nowhere, I received you. Now how do you explain that? Pure coincidence? Maybe. But I've never been a fan of pure coincidences."

Standing in front of the closed gate, conical hat slung over his back and his knapsack at his feet, Crane began to go over the motions in his head. He had made every possible precaution: giving what he believed to be a solid alibi, ruffling his feathers and rubbing some dirt on his face to make it look more convincing as well as enhancing some minor scars with the addition of red clay. Further, to keep up the illusion, Crane had reminded himself to answer only to the name of Lao Din, brushed up on the current political and sociological state of the wetlands and paddy fields, in the event that he were asked about his home province, and refreshed his own personal history, recalling the names of his mother, father, and brother.

"There is only one option that I can see" Crane said to himself, thinking aloud, "I cannot stay in the city, for then casting me out of the temple would serve no purpose and have no meaning. No, I must leave. As for where, well, there is only one possible option there as well, Fujian, the ancestral home."

It was then that Crane began to pace and as he paced he began to think and as he thought he began to grow restless which only made him angry.

"What am I even doing?" Crane exclaimed, continuing the one-sided conversation with himself, "I have no reason to be here, no real obligation, I can just go anytime I want. Who cares about a stupid panda and his dreams? What about my happiness? When it is going to be my turn?"

Crane answered himself almost immediately after he had spoken, feeling guilty for even mentioning or considering blowing Po off.

"What does that prove if you fly away now? Nothing. You promised to help him and as a former member of the Five you have to honor that. How you're going to do it is up to you I can't help you with everything but you need to work it out. The only thing I know is that you can't stay here. So what are you going to do about it?"

Looking towards the steps, Crane could hear voices and the faint sound of footsteps. Getting back into his place, Crane straightened himself out and tried his best to look presentable, making one last mental note of his personal reminders. After a few seconds of tension and nothing but the sound of footsteps, the voices having stopped, Crane began to relax, no sooner did he do so did Po and Mr. Ping reach the top of the stairs, finally resting at the gate.

"Nice place" Mr. Ping declared, rather impressed, "Makes the climb worth it."

Po nodded in full agreement, too much in awe to become incredibly excited and dance, although his brain was certainly doing that to say the least.

"Marvelous isn't it?" Crane said in greeting, "A thousand years of history, right here on the highest hill in the center of the city. Really put things into perspective."

Mr. Ping nodded, and for no particular reason other than he thought it was appropriate, granted Crane namaskar, who upon receiving it, returned with equal grace and humility.

"So you have studied" Crane continued, specifically to Mr. Ping, "You are full of surprises Mr. Ping. Maybe there is more to you after all."

Mr. Ping waved him off modestly, for it was obvious that Crane thought too highly of him and perceived him to be more than what he was.

"Thank you Din" Mr. Ping replied, remembering Crane's alias at the last minute, "But really, you think too much of me. I just make noodles."

Crane smiled and nodded, immediately dropping the subject, after which he turned his attention to Po.

"Are you ready Po?" Crane asked, his tone shifting slightly, becoming more serious as he made his way over to the panda, who had taken the liberty of walking around, admiring the gate.

"I'm ready" Po answered, filled with confidence, "So where is he? He should be here right?"

Crane lifted his wing in peace, bidding for calm and at the same time Po's attention. Po, still under the influence of his father's words, his heart and ears open, stopped and became self-aware.

"There's been a slight change of plan" Crane replied, not really sure how to properly ease into the conversation without it sounding awkward and so simply diving directly into it, "You are not going to train with the Furious Five."

Po immediately became distraught, he wanted to throw the nearest thing he could down the steps of the palace if only to hear it crash, such was his devastation and his disappointment. Still, despite his feelings, he remained relatively in control, in part because of Mr. Ping, whose look of concern and guidance, serving as comfort and security.

"What do you mean I can't train with them?" Po pressed, on the verge of stammering, " I thought you said that-"

Crane nodded and cut him off, refusing to allow Po the luxury of a rant, for he was at the gates of the temple, scared ground.

"I know what I said" Crane replied sternly, "But the situation has changed. Instead of training with them you will accompany me. We journey to the Fujian providence, south of here."

Mr. Ping, at hearing this, took flight and landed between them, refusing to believe what he was hearing.

"He will certainly not!" Mr. Ping said, to the point of screaming, "It is bad enough that he was coming here now you're asking him to travel with you to parts unknown. Are you insane?"

Crane, noticing Mr. Ping's feathers and their considerable ruff, expressing his anger, began to work the gears in his head; in the meantime his attention turned to Po, who took the hint and got on the defensive.

"Under whose authority?" Po inquired, "How are you able to afford this, it's not like it's an easy journey to, wherever it is you're going."

Crane nodded and smiled in turn, for Po's question was a rational one, one that he personally thought would be asked by Mr. Ping, but given the circumstances, and perhaps Po's curiosity, Crane found it acceptable.

"As I told you before Crane and I go way back" Crane answered, "We talked for a good many hours and he agreed to help. Think of it as a test, you do this and I guarantee you training with Shifu himself. Maybe, if you are worthy, he will bring you into the fold."

Mr. Ping practically exploded at this, for now the offer was too good not to be taken up and he was sure that Po was going to take it.

"I will not have you take my son out into the wilderness!" Mr. Ping screamed, his anger now having reached a peak; all other emotions driven back, his actions guided solely by the prospect of loss, "If he leaves I'll have nothing left, I might never see him again, he could die out there and I would never forgive myself! Don't do this, don't take away my son!"

Mr. Ping, during his explosion, had managed to grab Crane by the chest and pin him against the wall. Crane, who had allowed it to happen, for he was still formulating a suitable alternative, smiled and gently pushed the goose off of him as his plan came to fruition.

"If you're so concerned with your son's safety then come with us" Crane offered, "What better way to ensure that he stays out of trouble than by keeping an eye on him?"

Mr. Ping laughed at the idea, its absurdity was far beyond his own comprehension of reality at the moment.

"That is supposed to be your job" Mr. Ping declared, calming down a bit but still maintaining his energy, "Besides I can't just up and leave, I have responsibility. I have a noodle shop, who is going to run that while I'm gone? No one, that's who!"

Crane nonchalantly turned to Po, who turned to his father and smiled sheepishly, although it wasn't the best idea, it comforted the panda to know that Crane and presumably Shifu and Oogway had approved of the journey. This was enough, in Po's opinion, to convince him.

"Come on Dad" Po said encouragingly, "Remember the waterfalls? The mountains and the lakes you used to go to? Don't you want to experience that again? You said so yourself, sometimes it's about doing things that scare you."

Mr. Ping shook his head in denial, his suspicions and fears confirmed and boosted to an eleven; this only brought nothing but trouble. Still, he could not help but feel that Po had spoken true, which meant that not only had he listened, but he had begun to take his words to heart, and if it only took that short amount of time for things to settle, and at least begin the idea, he could only imagine what a journey of this proportion would do.

"This kind of thing changes people" Mr. Ping said softly, mostly talking to himself, "You come back different than you were before. See things differently-"

The goose once more turned to Po, his eyes shining again, his heart having already decided on a course of action.

"Are you ready to take that chance Po?"

Po nodded, giving his answer and stood quietly next to Crane. Mr. Ping sighed and hung his head, forgiving himself and praying to his ancestors to forgive him in turn for what he was about to do.

"Okay then" Mr. Ping continued, "Then let us change together."

Crane wrapped them in a embrace, delighted that Mr. Ping had agreed, he could only hope that the journey worked out better for them in the end. Laughing joyously, with a smile as big as his wingspan, Crane, accompanied by his new companions trudged down the steps of the palace. Halfway down, Crane and Mr. Ping collectively decided to take to the air, each of them taking Po's side, speeding up the process. After a quick stop at the market to gather supplies and to allow Mr. Ping to leave his shop in the service of Wu Chen, another goose, the party set out from the city and into the world.


	6. First Impressions

Chapter Six: First Impressions

The road to Fujian was a difficult one, in part because of the terrain, most of which was mountainous and generally unforgiving, and in part because the dirt and occasional cobblestone was uneven and hard on the feet. In addition to the road there was also the weather, which was considerably rainy and dismal; but because there was nothing to be done about it, Crane, Po, and Mr. Ping, decided to live with it, taking solace in that it was at least a gentle rain.

Walking on the path and trying their best to avoid the odd rock or branch that had managed to stick its way through, carrying nothing but what they had managed to scrounge up with the little money they possessed, Crane and Mr. Ping, each walking at a steady pace, tried their best to think of conversation topics, neither of them possessing much in terms of people skills.

"Mister Crane" Mr. Ping began, Po several feet ahead and well out of earshot, "Tell me, why you haven't told him yet?"

Crane glanced at Po and then back at Mr. Ping, contemplating his answer; before he even gave it however, his eyes betrayed him; the question causing them to become regretful and sad, squinting as if they refused to look at anything clearly, much like his mind which was once again clouded.

"It's a long story Ping" Crane answered solemnly, "One that I hope I will be able to tell. In time."

Mr. Ping shook his head, although he respected Crane and his position, he found it beneath him to simply avoid it as if it wasn't even an issue.

"You can't keep avoiding it forever" Mr. Ping continued sternly, "Eventually he's going to figure it out. Are you ready to have that conversation? Remember Mister Crane, once you've gone down a path, it's very difficult to turn around."

Crane sighed and hung his head sadly, for he was not delusional, he knew that eventually everything would have to be revealed- his identity and his reasoning chief among these. Because he was a rational individual and figured at the very least he needed one person on his side when the inevitable occurred and feelings of betrayal came up, Crane relented and gave Mr. Ping what he had asked for.

"In his room I noticed that there were small figurines, one for Monkey, Tigress, Viper, and Mantis, yet none for Crane. Why do you think that is?"

Mr. Ping laughed, for the question was ridiculous and seemed irrelevant; still, if only to humor him, the goose answered.

"Because he lost it" Mr. Ping replied, "Seriously, what does that have to do with anything?"

Crane shook his head, for it had to do with everything, as far as he was concerned, it confirmed what he already knew.

"Unlikely" Crane continued, sulking, his pragmatism taking over, "Po being the kung-fu enthusiast that he is, the idea of him losing anything even remotely related to kung-fu, even if it was as simple as a toy would be incomprehensible. No, Crane was not on that shelf because he does not fit his expectations of what a warrior should be."

Mr. Ping laughed again, finding it hard to believe that Po would have biases when it came to such matters, remembering all the times that he had recited stories and legends and histories of warriors and poets, who had claimed to be masters of the art, Po having met them all with equal curiosity and wonder.

"I think you're reading too much into this" Mr. Ping exclaimed, "If you tell him he will understand. He might even be more excited-"

Crane huffed indifferently, he wanted to believe that the goose was right, but there was still a part of him that held on to his conceptions if only because it had happened so many times before.

"If you found out that one of your heroes was less than what you thought would you be excited?" Crane asked, at the same time ending the conversation on his part, wanting nothing more to do with Mr. Ping and his endless prying. Walking towards Po, Crane tried to the best of his ability to focus the panda's attention in hopes of capturing his own.

"Po" Crane began as he reached his side, his legs at half their normal stride, "There is something that you must know."

Po, who up until this point had been mostly talking to himself, silently turned around inquisitively, eager to hear what it was that the bird had to say. His eyes sparkled and darted left to right excitedly, almost as if he were about to explode.

"What is it?" Po asked, answering him, "We gonna do some more kung-fu Din? Because if we are, I'm down. Hey, show me that tackle thing again."

Crane laughed, admiring his spirit and casually shook his head.

"In a minute" Crane continued, "but first you must know why we are going on this journey. Have you ever heard of The Way?"

Po shook his head, for although he had heard of Mr. Ping speak of it a few times, the goose being a follower, it did not however register enough on an emotional and spiritual level for those conversations to have any meaning.

"Not really" Po answered, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, "Dad's talked about it some but-"

Crane laughed to himself, at the same time unintentionally cutting Po off, to cover for this, the bird recovered as best he could by raising his wing.

"You don't need to explain" Crane said forgivingly, "I will teach you. But first, how well do you know yourself? Not kung-fu, but what makes you who you are. The people who have you shaped you, molded you. Where do you place the greatest value? These are paramount; in order to understand where you are going, you must first see where you have been."

Po sighed and hung his head, for although Crane meant well and had the best of intentions, the words cut through him like a knife through butter. The mentioning of a past, of understanding it to know the future, was something that at the moment was an impossibility; in part because he did not his own origin, and in part because he did not care to know it. Crane, sensing that he had touched a sensitive area, immediately retracted, his protective nature kicking in, allowing him to bring the conversation back on himself.

"When I was a kid the one thing I wanted to be was a Daoshi, a priest. I would help people wherever I could, do whatever I could. My father wouldn't allow it, he said it was useless, a waste of time, to be sitting in temples and praying when there was work in the fields to be done. My mother was much more understanding, although she did not entirely approve either. She aspired for me to marry the landlord's daughter, that I might bring respect to the family and receive three times the average rice field."

Mr. Ping, who couldn't help but overhear, stepped up at this, conversations of love and family having always intrigued him; that and his concern for Crane had grown to the point that anything the bird said he took in.

"What did you do?" the goose asked, curious, "Did you listen to your father or to your mother?"

Crane laughed and smiled to himself, at the same time giving an answer; still, if only because the question was asked, he gave a verbal response.

"Neither" Crane replied, leaning down a bit, trying to make it personal than it really was, at the same time allowing himself to scratch an itch that had been bothering him for the past few minutes, "Father had always disapproved of me and the landlord's daughter was terrible company."

It was at this moment that something strange happened, if only for the convenience of the plot and to move the story along. This strange happening, which wasn't entirely strange in and of itself, was of a leaf falling from a tree. Like most leaves it took its time falling to the ground, contemplating on its life and how it had gotten to this particular moment in time. It wondered perhaps if it were still connected to its branch if it would ever achieve its dream of being in a painting and thereby obtaining superstar status in the leaf community. But alas, due to the circumstances of plot and the fact that Crane was slowly becoming really, really boring, the leaf fell to the ground and thus, would never know what might have been.

No sooner did the leaf touch the ground did a wolf appear on the path a few feet ahead. The wolf, who staggered and stumbled with every step it took, did not notice the ample supply of food that was a few feet behind it, probably because it was too busy worrying about the large gash in its back or that the right side of its entire body, from tail to snout, was severely burned to the point of almost being completely off. This creature, as miserable and ghastly as it was, still continued in a forward direction along the path, as it were absolutely determined to reach its destination.

Looking at this scene, Crane did the only he saw fit to do and flew directly in front of it, taking a huge risk in the event that the wolf decided to feed and placing a great deal of trust in the situation.

"Please" Crane said softly, bowing slightly to show his sincerity, "Let me help you."

The wolf growled and but said nothing, only brushing Crane aside as it spat out its own blood and a few teeth. As it passed, the bird could feel the heat from its body, smell the ash and the brunt flesh; the combination almost making Crane throw up the meager breakfast he had that morning. Swallowing his own bile and shaking his head vigorously for a moment, trying to maintain his concentration, Crane continued his current course of action, meanwhile, Po and his father, curiosity getting the better of them, came up from behind, Mr. Ping with a wet rag, and Po with a few dumplings.

"Here" Po said, extending his dumpling filled hand, "Eat this, it'll help."

The wolf gnashed and gargled, at which Crane immediately slapped him as hard as he dared.

"Speak!" Crane berated, getting increasingly annoyed, "How do you expect us to help you if you don't speak? Tell us what happened to you, where you came from."

The wolf stared into Crane's eyes, trying to read them and see if they held any lies or deception behind them; it then turned to Po; it was here that it found courage. With the voice of the sad and hopeless, the lost and the dead, the wolf howled for a moment and indirectly answered Crane, looking down at the ground.

"Katayama, friends call me Kat-"

Po, who had never heard of such a ridiculous name, could only laugh at the thought, for it did not seem particularly fitting for the name of a wolf.

"Can I call you Kat?" Po asked, laughing, unable to control himself.

The wolf growled and sneered, refusing to believe that it had been insulted so blatantly.

"You should consider yourself lucky" the wolf declared, "If it wasn't for the sake of my family you would be dead for such an insult."

Katayama turned to Crane, who immediately upon hearing of family and the subtle hint of danger, became emotionally invested in the sad and half charred creature.

"My village was attacked. The ancestral temple destroyed; the buildings, nothing but ash and broken wood. The Daoshi, scattered, dead or worse-"

Katayama's voice trailed off, at the same time wincing in pain and agony; his wounds taking their toll. Mr. Ping, reacting quickly, placed the rag on the wolf's side and slowly began to dab away the blood and peck off dead fur.

"I beseech you" Katayama continued, shifting his weight slightly to his better side in an effort to help Mr. Ping, "Don't leave us to our fate just because we're wolves. We may be many things, but we are not monsters. We were farmers; only ate the unintelligent cows and the occasional deer. Please."

Crane sighed and shook his head, trying to come up with a solution in his head. He knew that by helping Katayama he risked exposure, as well as a day's worth of travel to Fujian; but by declining he risked his reputation and tested his moral code. In addition, with Po and Mr. Ping, the likelihood of danger increased with their presence if Crane were to go with Katayama; however, were they to stay the course and continue to Fujian, they would miss out on an opportunity.

"Where is the village?" Crane asked promptly, refusing to waste any more time.

Katayama, on a personal level thrilled that his speech worked, for he was certain that it was going to fail, smiled and laughed triumphantly, his tail wagging as if he were domesticated. Gesturing to the west in the direction that he had emerged through the trees, the wolf slowly made his way to the tree line, his eyes scanning the distance for movement.

"Five miles on the bank of the Great River" Katayama answered, "Once you cut through the trees you'll reach a clearing, then the river bank. Across is home, Asena's Temple touching the sky."

Crane nodded in understanding and straightened his hat, his path, although not necessarily in the direction he wanted to go, had been laid out; all that was necessary was to take the first step.

"Po" Crane began, turning towards the panda, who had begun to eat the dumplings that he had offered, "Do you want to learn kung fu?"

Po smiled and nodded excessively, for this questions he had known the answer to for years and one that he had been answering for days.

"Yes!" Po exclaimed, spitting out food and wiping his mouth, "It's about time we do something fun! So, what are we goanna do?"

Crane shrugged nonchalantly and calmly made his way into the tree line, saying nothing and leaving the panda in relative suspense. Mr. Ping however, could only laugh and shake his head.

"What's so funny goose?" Katayama asked, confused with the sudden change of attitude and the exchange between Crane and Po, the wolf unaccustomed to being cast aside quickly as if he did not exist.

"Nothing" Mr. Ping replied as he folded the rag and gathered his things, "It's just funny."

Katayama growled and huffed again, at the same time extending his paw forward, allowing Mr. Ping to take the lead into the forest.

"Forgive me if I don't start laughing" Katayama replied as he shook himself free of flies, "Kind of hurts to move."

Mr. Ping, who immediately became concerned, ever the fatherly figure, once again produced his rag and proceeded to dab only for Katayama to brush him off indignantly.

"Stop pestering me" Katayama berated, trying to maintain his composure, "I am not one of your gooselings waiting to be fed, I am above such pity!"

Mr. Ping backed off, pocketing the rag, not wanting to risk a confrontation, lest he provoke him and become the main course for his next dinner. Although he doubted Katayama's desire to do so, that did nothing to change his thoughts on the matter; however, it was perhaps comforting that tragedy had so recently struck the wolf, his mind preoccupied with other, more important matters than food.

As they made their way through the trees and underbrush, they each could feel a sensation coming over them: for Crane and Po, it was one of belonging and purpose, that these next few steps would guide them on the road to success; for Mr. Ping, uncertainty, the thought of not knowing what was coming next bringing him down to a low point, causing the goose to sulk and worry obsessively. Katayama on the other hand, was not plagued by emotion, instead it was his memories that haunted him the most. He could still hear the screams, still smell the fire, and still see the bodies lying on the side of the river in the mud and as they lay dying in their own blood. The thought of meeting the horror, of confronting it head-on so soon after it had just taken place chilled him to the bone. Still, if there was any hope left in him of finding what remained of his family he placed it there; and if his family was nowhere to be found, he would at least be comforted with the knowledge of the truth, which was just as well.


	7. Careen

Chapter Seven: Careen

Standing in the ruined atrium of Asena's Temple, with its once proud walls detailing its history in shambles on the cold and blood-stained ground, a lone crane stared at the sun and watched as if waiting for an opportunity. This crane, like most of its kind, was lanky in nature and tall; its head making up the majority of its mass. Its legs, like that of bamboo, were strong and flexible; its feet, poised and ready, casually spread next to the body of a dead monk, that of a wolf. The wings, black, stretched almost double its torso. The crown on the top of the head, frizzled and brown like a bush, was singed, burn wounds just before it indicating its origins.

"Raslin" the crane exclaimed, "Raslin, get over here!"

Raslin Do, a jumping mouse, suddenly came from around the corner. As far as members of his species went, with a face that would be considered edible and a tail as long as his body, it was almost inconceivable that he was part of this band of marauders, but here he was, participating just as much as any of the others.

"Yes Great One?" Raslin replied as he came forward, timing his hops perfectly so as to intentionally step on the bodies of the dead, "What can good Raslin do for you?"

The crane turned around sharply and bit the air, threateningly, at the same time causing the mouse to jump slightly.

"Which part of the phrase: 'assassinate the head priest discreetly' did you find so damn difficult? Was it the assassination part, the head priest part, or the _discreetly_ part?"

Raslin laughed and shook his head, amused by the question. The crane however, was not laughing, his face demanding a specific answer.

"Well it was dark when it happened-" Raslin declared, trying to defend himself, "Not to mention that he had at least twenty others with him. I did the best I could Careen."

Careen jeered and hissed at the sound of his name, the mention of it like poison to his heart.

"I told you its Xi!" Careen corrected, lifting his wing, preparing to strike, "Now get the bloody hell out of here before I maim you! And get me Chi-la, I need some stimulation."

Raslin nodded and bowed slightly before making his exit, smiling to himself, satisfied that his master was taking some time for himself. As he hopped away, looking for Chi-la, Raslin thought about all the times that he said yes and all the times that he had been ignored; his accomplishments dismissed. After a moment of thought, the mouse, coming to the conclusion that he was a lesser creature in the eyes of creation, resigned himself to the station of servant, furthering his own disillusion.

Careen's advisor, lover, and closest confidant was Chi-la; once a crane like himself, now a condemned and formless spirit, she was easily the most evil person besides Careen that had ever dared to walk the earth. As she entered the room with the self-confidence and vanity of Aphrodite, in her preferred form of a crane, Careen could detected the faint aroma of the incense that hung from the rod that he knew she carried on long excursions.

"Does it really mask the smell of the decaying and the dead?" Careen said, partially joking, "Or are you just toying with me?"

Chi-la laughed and shook her head, amused with Careen's sense of humor. Reaching his side, staring into the distance, the thought of death never crossing her mind, for it no longer mattered, Chi-la could only smile- the destruction of her enemies complete and total.

"Soon all of China shall know the true power of cranes" Chi-la declared, "The Emperor shall bow to you, everything you've ever wanted-"

"Everything that _we've_ ever wanted" Careen corrected, "My ambition is not so great as to blind me from the very thing that started this in the first place. We need to get you back to the living as soon as possible Chi-la. Time is the enemy."

Chi-la smirked and nodded, satisfied with the response and a bit flattered by his answer. It filled her with delightful wickedness, knowing that Careen would go so far, commit heinous atrocities, in order to see her spirit reunited, completely, with her body. Her enemies would be destroyed, Careen would be Emperor, and she, in turn, would have unimaginable power, long sought.

"Then" Careen continued, "And only then, will the Emperor bend to me. I will drop his body from the highest height and watch as it falls to the ground; and as his neck breaks against the sharpest rock the bells of our wedding shall sing and with it a new age: one of our own making, where cranes choose their own destiny."

Chi-la chuckled to herself, indulging herself in Careen's fantasy as she swayed from side to side, ultimately wrapping her body around him; kissing his face lovingly, yet never touching his beak, restraining herself. Breaking away, Careen returned his affection and then glanced one more time at the horizon.

"Come" Careen declared, looking around carefully, as if he were being watched, "It is time we take our leave. Have Raslin round up the others, tell them we're heading out. Someone's bound to come looking eventually."

Chi-la bowed slightly and threw out the incense, waving the last of the fumes away, then, following orders she took her leave. Careen, for his part, made a left down a small hallway, and then a sharp right into a decent sized room. The space, what was once a prayer hall, was now re-purposed as a holding cell; the walls rose high into the sky, culminating into three skylights which shone their dim light into the otherwise dark room. At one end of the hall was a large statue, the aspect of what the locals believed to be Asena, a large wolf the size of a bear. Although the statue appeared threatening, in part because it was of a wolf, in reality, Asena was docile, her ears pointed forward, her right fore-paw extended in apparent submission. Around the neck was a necklace, its significance long lost; at the base of the statue was an engraving: May all who enter here find peace, knowing they are among the pack.

Careen glared across the room, noticing the empty and blood-stained cages, trying to remember those who occupied them. He could still see some of them, most of them villagers, and among them, women and the old. They were ragged and sick, lack of water and food having drove them to near death, a result of the treatment that Careen and his men had put on them. Their screams as they begged for their lives, their souls, unanswered and piercing to the ears, torturous and deafening.

"Brave fools" Careen said to himself, "Brave, pitiful fools who do not know their fate. Pray that we remember you and look fondly upon ye. Let the strikes of our lashes come easy, and if they do not, then pray we kill you quickly."

Walking out of the room and leaving the dismal scene behind, Careen made his way to the courtyard of the temple near the roof; upon reaching it and temporarily blinded by the sun, the crane was pleased to see his force, all cranes save for Raslin, as well as the few villagers they had kept alive, waiting for him. Looking at the scene, and then at sun, Careen slowly walked in the middle of the square, breathed in, and began his piece.

"Brothers and Sisters of the wing, today was not the beginning that I have promised you. No, this is not even close to its imagining. What we have done here today is send a message to all of China that the true Masters of the World have come, Cranes. For too long our people have been used as cheap labor and tossed aside, the Emperor's taxes squandering any chance of upward mobility forcing us into poverty and submission. For too long we have fought in wars and civil wars, only to be branded at best as assets and at worst as traitors and radical militants. Brothers and Sisters of the wing, those days are over! It's time we choose our own destiny, one where we take our rightful places in this world; where we are supreme- because we are supreme!"

With this the entire organization, from the lowest of the grunts to Chi-la herself, let out a victorious yelp that the foundations of the temple shook in its power. As the battalion took its leave, their war cry still emitting through the air and projecting through the trees, the world trembled in fear as the last fires of the brunt village died leaving nothing but ash and soot.


	8. Discipline

Chapter Eight: Discipline

By the time Crane, Po, Katayama, and Mr. Ping reached the clearing the light rain that had filled the morning hours had dissipated, leaving in its place the smell of humidity, wet grass, and a small rainbow that hung over the river. At seeing the rainbow, for no particular reason, Crane began to whistle; the tune was jovial and easily danceable to, its rhythm simple and calm. The song, one of Crane's own creation, entitled "The Gift of Mountain Rains", spoke of the beauty of nature, specifically rainbows, despite not having any lyrics. It was common among birds to be taught the gift of song at a young age, and despite cranes not necessarily being prone to the activity, Crane found it relaxing, especially before stressful situations, to occasionally belt out a tune.

"Any particular reason why you're whistling?" Katayama declared, annoyed, seeing no reason for it, especially given the circumstances.

Crane shrugged and stopped, he was done anyway, the song varying in length depending on his mood.

"Be like the bird who, upon falling from the broken branch, sings, grateful she hath wings" Crane declared, "Take the moments when you can and always hold your head up high: personal philosophy."

Katayama huffed and shook his head, for he neither understood Crane's reasoning nor did he care to understand it. He was more concerned with his village and the possibility of mauling the person responsible than reveling in the beauties of nature and spewing philosophy.

"Have you ever had your feathers ripped off one by one?" Katayama said, sarcastically and rhetorically, "Because frankly my fine feathered acquaintance you keep this up and you're going to find out just how painful that is."

Crane brushed him off casually and huffed, not because he did not believe the threat but because he knew that Katayama could not afford the luxury. Still, it was something to keep in mind, and so, as a precaution, he stopped whistling and then he stopped walking.

"What is it?" Katayama pressed, curious, "Let's go, we're wasting time!"

Crane raised his wing, bidding silence, and yet said nothing; becoming as a stiff as a tree, his head on a sudden swivel. Looking around 360 degrees, temporarily defying the laws of physics and behaving in a manner similar to his distant relatives, the owls, Crane scanned the horizon and then, that task completed, did the same with the sky. Above, he could see, faintly, a single star directly above him. Taking this as a sign, the bird breathed in and began stretching, the beginning of his formations.

"Po" Crane declared suddenly, "Do you remember what I taught you? Legs shoulder width apart, knees bent?"

Katayama stared at Crane in complete disbelief, they were too close in his opinion, to stop and train, much less for the sake of a panda.

"You can't be serious" Katayama said, mostly talking to himself, his face stoic and devoid of real emotion, "You're doing this now, of all times! We need to get to the village!"

Crane glared at the wolf and then at Po, who had given his things to Mr. Ping, who stood by in curiosity. Seeing this, Crane shook his head.

"Not on your life Mr. Ping" Crane declared, calling Ping out, "You wanted to come so you get to learn. Stand next to Po, same deal- legs shoulder length apart, knees bent. Roll your wings clockwise and your neck counterclockwise."

Mr. Ping stared at Crane hesitantly, and then at Po.

"Are you sure about this?" Mr. Ping began, "I'm not exactly the supplest of fellows."

Crane laughed and nodded in encouragement as he brought himself to balancing on one leg, finishing up his beginning exercises.

"Absolutely" Crane replied enthusiastically, "You're never too old to learn a new trick Ping. Now come on, loosen those muscles!"

Mr. Ping sighed and relented, doing as he was told and taking his place by his son, he began to stretch to the best of his ability. Katayama meanwhile, had grumpily found himself a place to sit in the dirt, scowling and for a moment, hating them all. This moment, however, was short-lived, as Crane, being the kind of person that he is, waved him over.

"Hey wolf, come over here!"

Sulking and wanting nothing to do with any one of them, beginning to regret his plea for help, Katayama made his way over, kicking dirt in his wounds to stop the bleeding and to the dull the pain. Because walking was still a chore, Katayama dragged himself, using his fore-paws to scrape and claw at the dirt clods and the mud, making a considerable effort; not because he was in great pain, but rather, to make the journey three times longer than necessary as well as the generate sympathy for his urgency.

"What in Asena's name do you want?" Katayama growled, his patience wearing thin as he righted himself, "Can't you see I'm busy dying over here?"

Crane smiled, Katayama's humor reminding him of Mantis, who was overly sarcastic, and perhaps of Monkey, who, like himself, was sometimes literal when it came to such things. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Crane, meeting the wolf half way, shouldered him to his feet and tended to his wounds the best his current means allowed him, by way of grass and mud.

"You're going to help me" Crane began, "Be my second, watch them, make sure they go through the motions correctly."

Katayama stopped for a moment, processing Crane's words. It didn't take him long to realize the request and then, understandably, he burst out laughing. The wolf's laugh, which was really a light howl given his nature, was long and sustained as if he had suddenly taken on the aspect of a horn that could only hit one note.

"Okay, real funny" Katayama exclaimed, taking a breath for himself, "You honestly think that I'm going to help you? How? In what condition am I in that makes you think I can help you train a lousy good-for-nothing goose and Mr. Eats-Too-Damn-Much a goddamn thing about kung fu?"

Po, who was busy eating yet another dumpling, stopped mid-bite and scowled, for Katayama had made no effort to lower his voice or to hide his opinion. Folding his arms and huffing, Po, insulted, stood firm and stomped his way over to the wolf. Mr. Ping, in response, began stammering, trying his best to make the words in his brain form in his mouth, and ultimately stood beside himself. The goose had only seen this one other time before, and the result ended up with Po in a sling and slightly bruised.

"Oh look at this" Katayama continued at Po's approach, "It's the Great Earthquake. Run everybody, he jumps once and we're all dead, better not make him angry!"

Crane, a concerned look on his face, stared at Katayama and then at Po, who remained undeterred by the barrage of insults. Instead of punching him in the face, one extreme, or crying, the other extreme, the panda did something rather unexpected, at least as far as Crane and Katayama were concerned, and proceeded to give the wolf a bear hug.

"Someone needs a hug" Po said, squeezing and lifting the wolf in the air, resulting in Katayama's futile struggle, "Were you not loved as a pup, is that it?"

Katayama grunted and squirmed, trying his best given his injuries to break free. It did not help that Po was squeezing the life out of him, opening up relatively healed wounds and causing him to howl, which Po took an answer.

"Don't cry" Po exclaimed, trying to comforting, petting the wolf's head, "Just let it out."

"Lay off!" Katayama growled, resisting the urge to bite Po's head, "You're crushing me for Asena's sake!"

Crane, at this point, had seen enough; placing a wing on Po, he bade that the wolf be released. Po did so and sheepishly smiled, trying to show his sincerity. Katayama, shaking himself and checking his brunt half, noticed that most of the dirt and mud that had been holding things in place had fallen off, in part due to time, and in part due to Po's excessive gesture of goodwill.

"Look at what you've done!" Katayama cried, now producing tears and allowing himself to cry, pitifully trying to rectify the damage, "Stupid panda. It's hard enough keeping myself together as it is, I don't need your help."

Crane nodded and silently motioned for Po to return to his post, after which he turned back to the wolf, only to discover that he had made his way to the riverbank, in a desperate attempt to soothe his wounds.

"Students!" Crane declared, raising his voice to grab Po and Mr. Ping's attention, "The first thing that every kung-fu master will tell you is: find your stance. Your stance is the first step to finding your form. For example: right foot slight extended behind you, knee slightly bent. Left foot, firm in the ground like a tree."

Po took the stance pretty quickly, Mr. Ping however, was having trouble. Crane, refusing to give up on either of them, immediately changed tactics and abandoned the stance technique all together. Curling his wing into a fist he casually demonstrated a punch and then a jump kick; Po, succeeding at the punch, and Mr. Ping finding ease with the kick. This immediately gave Crane an idea, and so, he switched tactics a third time.

"Use your strengths" Crane suggested, "Mr. Ping, you were given wings for a reason, use them. Po, you're a panda. What are pandas good at besides eating?"

Po shrugged and turned towards Mr. Ping, for in all honesty he had no idea; the goose, in response, immediately became uneasy, for the topic was never really discussed in the household. Mr. Ping often feared the day when Po asked about his origins, but he also feared that he would become everything that his kind was known for, which in honesty, wasn't much. Like cranes, Mr. Ping assumed that pandas were predominately farmers and perhaps herders, of what he had no idea, but the thought crossed his mind.

"Farming" Mr. Ping replied, answering for Po, "Pandas mostly keep to themselves, why do you think no one sees them?"

Crane smiled from ear to ear at this, an idea forming in his head. Turning towards Po, his eyes comically shifty, internally congratulating himself, Crane laughed; and as his brain applauded his apparent ingenuity, he began, just as he done before in Po's bedroom, to sculpt a warrior. Walking over to the panda, the crane began adjusting Po's feet, reverting to their normal resting position; for the arms, Crane placed them in the center of the bear's mass; forcing Po to look directly ahead.

"Alright" Crane said, stepping away and admiring his work even though he did relatively little, "Attack me."

Po and Mr. Ping looked at each other and then at Crane, their faces confused and slightly concerned, for Crane had suddenly become filled with the fire of the fight, one of the signs that he was indeed, still very much a member of the Furious Five in his mind, no matter what he said to others. Mr. Ping, having seen many exhibitions in his time, and two with Crane, saw this and smiled; for now he suspected that Lao Din would fade, the alias no more and once again Crane would appear with pride. Po, for his part, stood beside himself in partial fear and concern, the word "attack" affecting him, for he had no interest in hurting anyone, much less Crane, who did nothing to deserve such treatment.

"Come then" Crane continued, prying, focusing his energy on Po, "Show me the Mighty Po, Protector of the Valley of Peace!"

It was then that Katayama came out of left field, tackling Crane to the ground and pinning him to the dirt.

"How about Katayama the Scorned?" the wolf exclaimed, jeering, "Do you think you can take me on?"

Crane, confused, decided to humor him and pushed Katayama off; standing up, and preparing himself, the bird took the offense and casually began to circle his adversary. No sooner did this Crane do this, did Katayama see an opening and lunge for Po, prompting Mr. Ping to go on the defense; the wolf stopping just short of tackling the goose, and subsequently Po, to the ground.

"Your instincts fail you goose" Katayama said, chastising, "No matter how commendable they may be, in the end they only prove your weakness. Now, I'm going to try it again, this time let Po take the initiative, he's never going to learn properly if you keep protecting him."

Mr. Ping nodded and hung his head in shame, to which Katayama instantly denied him the luxury of, smiling and laughing to himself. Crane, who had relaxed, nodded in turn.

"Never be ashamed for protecting those you love" Crane declared as he walked over, "It's how every parent should be."

Mr. Ping smiled and bowed respectfully, he wasn't entirely as to why, but he suddenly felt the need, having almost made a point to do so when given a great compliment. Katayama, satisfied, returned to his starting point, Crane following him.

"Why are you doing this?" Crane asked, slightly concerned, his eyebrows raised, "What about your wounds?"

Katayama huffed, partially insulted and brushed him off; the question seemed irrelevant as far as he was concerned. His wounds would heal in time, even if it hurt to move with every solitary step he made. As for his reasoning, anything to move in a forward direction he considered progress towards his revenge goal.

"If we're going into hell they need to be ready" Katayama said, answering the question without really answering the question, "They need resolve. And you- you just need to grow a spine."

Crane stopped and hung his head, surprise and shame coming in at the same time, resulting in mixed emotions and confusion. Katayama laughed at this and shook his head pitifully.

"What you thought you could hide from me?" Katayama continued, stopping to turn and begin the exercise, "I know you Imperial City types- always think themselves so above everyone else, so humble, so perfect."

Crane raised his eyebrows; he wasn't sure if he should be offended or if he should agree, he decided for the former and nonchalantly stood in front of Katayama, at the same time making it rather obvious to Mr. Ping and to Po, that they were having a private conversation.

"What are you saying?" Crane pried, "Are you prejudiced against city dwellers?"

Katayama laughed and shook his head again, his pity only growing for Crane and his feigned attempt at offensive.

"It is the city dwellers who are prejudiced" Katayama corrected, clarifying, "But then again you would all about prejudices wouldn't you, Gōngfū lăoshī?"

The wolf stopped for a moment, waiting for Crane's response; he said nothing, the bird's head staring squarely at the ground. Katayama, unforgivingly, continued.

"Why did you leave the Palace? What could possibly be out here that is worth searching for?"

Crane smiled sheepishly, for technically he had an answer to the question even if he didn't necessarily believe it whole-heartedly yet.

"Happiness" Crane replied, "Just a little bit of happiness. See what I've been missing."

Katayama smiled and nodded, for wolves had a saying for that as well; he did not air it however, not because it wasn't particularly good, but because it wasn't needed. As he charged, beginning the exercise once again, tackling Po to the ground, Katayama, in his head, wondered if he ever knew what happiness was; he rationalized that he did.

Po, standing up and brushing himself off, casually wiping the blood that had dribbled from his mouth, rolled his neck and got into his battle ready stance. He began chanting to himself in Old Mandarin, which he only knew through the extensive study of a single text, _The Art of Jungle War_ by the reclusive military strategist, Sun Tzu-Hǔ. Mr. Ping, meanwhile, in addition to restraining himself, took to the sky to be greeted by Crane, who began teaching simple formations and the basics of aerial combat.

"You're thinking too much Fat-Ass" Katayama berated as he returned, having just beaten Po for the third time, "You call yourself a warrior? Warriors don't have time to think in the heat of battle! Thinking is what gets people killed. Stop thinking and start feeling. Forget form, forget function. Assume nothing. Anyone that attacks you is trying to kill you. Hold nothing back."

Katayama charged again; Po, for his part, stepped casually to the left, laughing to himself as the wolf breezed past him, running almost to the tree line before realizing his error. Grumbling, annoyed that he had played, Katayama hatefully trudged his way back to Po and pulled him down to his knees, yanking on his ear.

"You will run around this field until you puke blood" Katayama declared viciously, "You will not eat, you will not sleep, until I say otherwise. Now get!"

Po, concerned and confused by the order, casually pulled Katayama's paw off of his ear and then gave him another bear hug. Katayama, howling in pain, for once again the panda was squeezing his wounds, growled and went to his last resort, biting Po's head, making sure to aim for the nearest ear- it wasn't enough to cause any serious damage, but it did draw some blood, particularly in the back of the head.

"Don't you ever hug me again" Katayama exclaimed, sub-sequentially being released, "Touch me and you die."

Po nodded and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. Katayama, at seeing this, glared up at Crane and Mr. Ping, who were hovering above, talking, presumably about technique, and then back at Po. Taking a long sigh, the wolf hung his head and motioned for Po to follow him, which he complied. Walking to the river and staring at the village just beyond, Katayama looked at his home and then gave a mournful howl. Katayama had only given the mournful howl one other time in his life, after his best friend was killed in a pack dispute over leadership, despite the fact that many other equally sad events had happened in his life to warrant such a display. It was a howl that spoke of many things besides sadness and grief, it was one that spoke of memory, of a specific time and place, of friendship and love. It was the kind of howl that was reserved, at least for Katayama, for special occasions that he deemed worthy of honor and remembrance. Po, looking at the wolf, could hear only bits of these qualities, mostly sadness and grief, but also of time, he did not say so however, on account of allowing the moment to exist, but he still thought about it all the same. A few minutes later, Katayama, still sitting on the bank of the river, stood up and carefully made his way across. Po, having grown concerned for the wolf, followed him, in part out of curiosity and in part out of the sense for adventure.

The scorched earth was still warm when they reached the village square. Surrounded by piles of ash and bodies of the rotting dead, files gathering around the corpses for an evening feast, Katayama and Po could only look on in horror and disbelief. The smell was sickening and made their heads spin and jeer; the sight was even worse, the images burned into their brains a permanent one, images that could only be subdued and never fully forgotten, either by time or space.

"What happened here?" a voice said from behind, that of Mr. Ping, who had landed with Crane, "Who could have done this? And why?"

Crane removed his hat and fell to his knees, refusing to believe what he was now in the midst of. Staring at Po, and then at Katayama, and finally Mr. Ping, the bird slowly began to think of a plan of action, it was crazy and partially insane, but it was at least a plan- a plan that led to the answers to Mr. Ping's questions. Pacing around the space, taking in the area and noting the signs and markings of interest: the ash piles, the burn circle, and the piles of the dead, Crane immediately began to see a pattern. Flying high and looking down, in the debris and smoke and ash, there was a message, a single symbol of a crane nesting in a shriveled tree.


	9. A Culmination of All Your Sins

Chapter Nine: A Culmination of All Your Sins

Crane landed on the ground, finding Po and Mr. Ping shifting through the ashes of what was once Katayama's hut, the wolf himself in the process of digging, desperately trying to find something that survived the attack.

"What are you looking for?" Mr. Ping asked curiously, for it was obvious that whatever Katayama was looking for it was specific.

"A medallion" Katayama answered, not bothering to stop from his work, "The symbol of my people. Asena's face on the back."

Po raised his eyebrows in confusion and turned towards the temple, for something that specific would logically be in a sacred place of worship, not in the chest of a farmer. Mr. Ping, likewise, thought the same and casually approached the steps of the temple, his fear subsided in place of curiosity and concern for Katayama.

"What about the temple?" Mr. Ping continued, "Could it be there?"

Katayama shook his head in disagreement, as his hole became large and increasingly hopeless.

"No" he explained, "The priests blessed each of us with a medallion, as a welcome into the pack. Each one is personal, inscribed with the immediate family members of the bearer. Worn on special occasions: wedding ceremonies, funerals, harvest festivals, and the like. It is a personal thing, I don't expect you to understand, just to help me search."

Walking over, his steps cautious and afraid, Crane slowly pulled Katayama out of his hole, disrupting his work and generally annoying him, and turned to the others, his eyes bearing news that his heart and head were not ready to give.

"We must go to the Jade Palace" Crane said sternly, "If my suspicions are correct, and I believe they are, then we're going to need my scrolls, my memory is faulty on the subject and they have the information we need."

Katayama growled and groaned, refusing to be cast aside as if his problems did not matter. Crane however, was having none of it.

"The medallion of yours can wait" Crane continued, "It is probably already destroyed, and if it is not, it is a waste of time searching for it. I'm sorry, but we have more pressing concerns."

Po was completely confused, having no idea what was going on, his face riddled with questions and seeking answers. As the gears began turning in his head, Po immediately felt as if he were used, to what end he did not know, but he knew that he was tired of it.

"What are you talking about?" Po asked, on the verge of demanding, "You're not making any sense. What's going on?"

Crane sighed and bowed as low as he could, trying to show his sincerity even though he was well past such formalities. Lifting his head and seeing Po's urgency, Crane straightened himself.

"I have not been entirely truthful" Crane explained, hanging his head in shame, "Most of what you know about me is based on a lie. My name is Crane, I am-was-a member of the Furious Five. I came out here hoping to find myself, that I might be complete-"

"So you used me!" Po replied, cutting him off, "Why drag me into this? Why am I so important?"

Crane laughed disrespectfully and shook his head in pity, brushing him off with the nonchalant wave of his wing, glancing towards his left.

"Use you?" Crane retorted, "I did nothing of the sort; there was nothing to use you for. As for your importance, in all honesty you are not."

Po folded his arms and huffed, unimpressed, Crane's explanation bringing more questions than answers and the answers he did receive were inadequate to his liking.

"Why do this Crane?" Po pressed, "Why go through all this trouble? What was there to gain?"

Crane stepped back a few steps and hung his head once again, for in honesty he knew the answer to the question but was too afraid, or perhaps too embarrassed to answer it directly. Still, swallowing his pride and figuring that he owed Po at least that much, he relented and gave a partial answer.

"Cranes are not looked upon favorably in society. We are seen as overly pragmatic and incapable of producing real emotion or having actual conversation. This stigma has caused many cranes to resent the other species; some try to defy what they have been called and live their lives the best they can, others embody it, seeing no other alternative. Some, take it to another extreme altogether and use the stigma as a rallying cry for the ultimate social justice crusade. As for myself, I am somewhere in-between: a grey area."

Crane, at this point, had begun to cry, still he did not let his emotion overpower him to the point where speech was impossible, and so continued without hesitation. Po, throughout all of this, maintained a stony disposition, taking in the information with general indifference, for the crane largely ignored the question in favor of vindicating himself.

"All I want is a chance. To be more than what people have told me that I am. To not be presented as Crane: kung-fu master; or Crane: the pragmatic; or Crane: the representative of his people; but to simply be Crane and all that it encompasses. But I can't be any of those things without this; without going out into the world and figuring things out for myself. Until I figure out who I am, the fact that I am Crane doesn't mean a thing."

The sky slowly began to darken as cloud began to form, blocking the sun and creating a somewhat dismal atmosphere to an already dismal scene. This did not concern anyone in the slightest, save for the acknowledgement of time passing with relative quickness, and so Crane, pausing for breath, continued once more.

"I don't expect you to forgive me or to understand. I would not blame if you hated me for the rest of your life and wanted nothing to do with me. That is your right and you are welcome to it. But this, this destruction around us, it is bigger than the both of us. The world cares nothing for our problems and concerns, only that things continue, either as they were, or as they will be."

Mr. Ping stepped forward, trying to find the right words to say; to possibly earn the high pedestal that Crane had placed him on from the beginning. Turning towards his son, Mr. Ping nodded and smiled.

"Po" Mr. Ping began, "Please try to understand. Mister Crane was only trying to do the right thing. He didn't want you to be disappointed."

Po huffed and rolled his eyes, for that was the understatement of the year as far as he was concerned.

"Disappointed?" Po exclaimed, "He was worried about me being _disappointed_! Who does he think I am?"

Crane sighed once more and laughed.

"Good question" he answered in turn, "One that I should have asked you a long time ago. Who do you think I am? Before all of this, what was your opinion of Crane? Did you perhaps, in your arrogance, think that I was holier-than-thou? That I was somehow superior and worthy of praise and recognition? You think that I'm some kind of hero? Heroes save people; heroes do what is right even when it easier and more profitable not to; heroes protect those they care about and are willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. You want heroes Po? Look at your father. He's about as close as you're ever going to find. Otherwise, heroes don't exist. I'm nothing. I'm not a warrior, warriors have names, and do great big things."

Po, although refusing to believe Crane in his entirety, for it was entirely out of his character for him to believe such things whole-heartedly, he was not willing to argue about the subject, in favor of immediate action. It was clear, even to Po, that doing nothing was not an option, and they had come too far in the grand scheme of things to simply leave things as they were.

"You're right about one thing Crane" Po said, accepting the situation for what it was, "Things cannot remain as they are; I don't know if they'll ever be back to the way things were before, but if this is the future we can't allow it to happen. And no matter what you say, no matter what you might believe, you're a hero. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to stop this; the question is, are you?"

* * *

Mantis had pondered and battled the questions that were rattling in his head; Crane's writings having presented astute judgement and sound reason, pointing to the flaws and inconsistencies of the methods and practices of the Jade Palace. He didn't necessarily agree with Crane on the majority of his views, but that was beside the point; for he still found them interesting and worth study. Mantis hoped, that in reading Crane's scrolls, he could find a reason for his journey and try to make sense of things to the others. Walking carefully across the room and finding Viper and Monkey partaking in a light lunch, Mantis smiled and tried to think of something that Crane would say.

"Hey come guys" Mantis said as he made his way over, carrying Crane's scroll in his hands, "Things aren't so bad right? Look on the bright side, at least now we don't have to worry about food shortages with one less mouth to feed."

Viper rolled her eyes and callously pulled her bowl of rice closer to herself as if Mantis were intending on stealing it; Monkey however, after a brief moment of silence and temporary confusion, let out an overzealous laugh and a slap to his side for dramatic effect.

"Good one Mantis" Monkey replied, pathetically hamming it up in an attempt for normalcy, "Just like Crane himself. Why it's almost like he's here."

Mantis nodded and graciously unrolled the scroll before them, presenting it as if it foretold the Prophecy of the Dragon Warrior, minding the edges and smoothing out any rogue creases, for clarity's sake. Viper, curiosity getting the better of him, and her heart in turmoil from Crane's absence, longing to hear his voice and see his face, leaned in and began to read.

"Personal Philosophy #1: There is no greater judge of character than how you see yourself. Once you love yourself, everything else becomes relative."

Viper smiled and nodded in content, for she liked Crane's philosophies, it reminded her that the world still turned. Mantis, in turned, laughed and shook his head in remembrance; thinking back to the many philosophies that Crane possessed, none of them contradictory to any other when taken at its surface level meaning.

"One of my favorites is Number 14" Mantis exclaimed, skimming down, "'never look a mantis in the eye and tell him he is small, especially if said mantis is a kung-fu master, for they are big in the areas that count.'"

Mantis laughed to himself and slapped the paper showing vindication, after which he jumped on top of the highest thing he could, a nearby box, and projected his voice as loud as he was able.

"Ha!" he cried, "You hear that world? I'm freaking huge!"

Monkey chuckled and took Mantis' place of skimming the page, finding one relating to monkeys. Viper, who was doing the same as Monkey, found one further down relating to snakes. Looking over the words and then up at each other, Monkey and Viper each came to the singular conclusion. They dared not say what it was, for in truth it was obvious and simple; as if speaking it aloud would ruin the message and degrade its importance. Embracing each other, having reached the point beyond words, Monkey, Viper, and a returning Mantis, become one solid entity, united in their memories and eternal affection, both for each other and for Crane.

Breaking away and wiping his eyes, Mantis, sniffling a bit due to tears, flipped the scroll over, on which was another philosophy, the 18th, followed by a journal entry was transcribed: "Cranes work in black and white, either things are or they are not, we do not understand grey". It was surprising, to find someone who spoke so freely and highly of others be so self-conscious and worrisome about himself; as if he believed that he held no value of his own, that the value of others was merely reflected off, like a mirror. This theme, common among the last days of Crane's life at the Palace, was one that on a personal level, Mantis was getting tired of hearing.

"If Crane wants to believe that he's worthless, fine" Mantis said, rallying the others, "I for one am not going to stand for it. It's time we re-written some history. Prove Crane wrong."

Monkey raised his hand, if only to be snobbish and to make a point that didn't necessarily need to be made.

"How exactly are we going to do that genius?" Monkey asked, "It's not like he's just going to walk through the front door."

It was at this moment that Crane flew through the window, landing on the rafters. Shaking himself off, for it had once again begun to rain in the area, Crane, taking off his hat, allowing himself to breathe, calmly looked about the room, taking no notice of any of them.

"Crane!" the three said in unison, rushing to their feet and standing tall, anticipating a warm reception.

Crane jumped down and glazed them over, giving a small, but significant smile. Looking down and seeing the scrolls, the bird picked them up and examined them.

"Ah" Crane exclaimed, "I see you have been reading my philosophies. Tell me, how did you like them? Not by far my best work, but it does the job. I myself prefer the Story of the River, simple and nice, romantic and tragic, all the things that make a gripping melodrama. But I digress. How long did it take for you to start missing me?"

Monkey shrugged, although recognizing the rhetorical nature of the question, being the general prankster that he is, he decided to answer in spite of himself, speaking for the group.

"We never stopped missing you" Monkey replied, a bit over-dramatic for its own sake, "What were you thinking, running off like that? Kept us up all night, worried sick with your big talk and your big walk. Now you come back in less than a day's time, what's up with that?"

Crane laughed and shook his head, for it was typical of Monkey to say such things. Patting him gently on the shoulder, the bird carefully made his way towards the foyer, beckoning the others to follow. Viper and Mantis, confused and curious at Crane's sudden appearance, immediately decided to take action, and so began walking with Crane. Monkey, for his part, quietly blew out the candles that were lit in the room and then praised his ancestors, grateful that he was taken literally.

Coming into the foyer with the grace and pose of walking through a serene park, Crane glanced casually over to his left towards the courtyard. Leaning his head slightly upward, he could hear the sound of distant fighting, he paid no mind for he knew exactly what it was and simply continued walking. The others, who did not possess much in terms of hearing compared to Crane, took no notice of anything out of the ordinary and continued their current purpose in following Crane.

"Don't think that I'm back" Crane declared, stopping in the middle of the hallway, his whistling coming to a halt, "I'm just here for the scrolls and then I'm gone."

Viper moved forward, her heart and her head equally confused and desperately seeking answers to questions that she did not know or even think to ask.

"What's going on Crane?" Viper said, pleading, "Why do you need them? What's so important?"

Crane laughed and shook his head pitifully; still, despite this, he gave an answer.

"My scrolls are many things Viper" Crane explained, "Besides a detailed and meticulous early account of my life, it is also, rather cleverly, an encoded map; that only I know how to properly read. A necessary security measure, I assure you, given what it leads to."

The battle outside the walls moved closer, finally drawing itself to the attention of the others; before anything could be done about it, the combatants, Katayama, Mr. Ping, Po, flying through the air and Tigress, their assailant, came crashing down into the courtyard. Mr. Ping, catching Po and landing safely to the ground, immediately switched gears, his brain moving to diplomacy.

"Is all of this necessary?" Mr. Ping asked, "Can't we just talk this out?"

Katayama barked excessively, annoyed that the option was even brought up, considering the beating that they had collectively received. It was an embarrassment, to surrender so easily and without considering the possibility of a death match; which for wolves was almost always the case.

"How dare you Ping!" Katayama exclaimed, scowling as he stood, his wounds re-opening and causing him to wheeze and cough, "Never accept defeat, not when victory is so close at hand!"

Mr. Ping rolled his eyes and brushed him off, for he would hardly call a victory one that resulted in bleeding out in the courtyard.

"Don't be so over-dramatic" Mr. Ping retorted, "Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. No wonder wolves have such a bad reputation around here."

Tigress glared at them both, mentally calculating which one of them was the greater threat. While she was doing this, she relaxed, giving the appearance of letting down her guard, in the hope that one of them would take the bait. It didn't work, but they still commended her for the effort.

"Leave" Tigress declared warningly, flashing her teeth in an attempt to be threatening, "Whatever you've came here for, you won't find it."

Katayama, who had just about enough of getting pushed around and stepped on, stepped forward, wincing in the effort, and did his best to hold his ground. Growling and flashing his own set of teeth, the hairs on the good side of his body standing on their ends and the other side pulsing in pain.

"We want no trouble" the wolf replied, repeating himself from earlier, having tried diplomacy earlier, "Maybe if you listened with your ears instead of your eyes you would know that. Why do you think so many of us live in seclusion and resort to violence? I'm starting Careen has a point. You get whatever you deserve. May your ancestors protector you, if you still remember them."

Katayama slowly made his way towards the entrance of the palace, Tigress however, pushed him back with a roundhouse kick, knocking him down to the ground and back in his place next to Mr. Ping; who immediately took his protective stance once again and began tending to him as best he was able. The wolf, who no longer seemed to mind the care of Mr. Ping, glanced pleadingly at him and then at Crane, who passively watched. Po, through all of this, observed, not really sure what to believe or if any of it was real.

"You" Tigress said, focusing her attention on Po, "What the hell are you staring at, you stupid or something?"

Po folded his arms and shook his head, on one hand he was ecstatic that Tigress had spoken directly to him, having followed her and the other members of the Five for years; yet on the other, he was morally offended.

"Hey" Po replied, "Can't we just talk this out?"

Tigress, moving her arms around, regaining her chi, shook her head in response and huffed, insulted by the notion.

"The time for talk has long since passed" Tigress answered, inching forward, "Now, leave or fight. Your choice."

Po turned towards Crane, his eyes sad, for the last thing he wanted to do was fight Tigress, especially considering the beating he had just received.

"Master" Po said, his voice matching his eyes in their softness, hoping against hope that Crane would intervene, if only to take away the awkwardness of the situation, "Please."

Crane, setting down his scrolls and sighing deeply, calmly walked over and placed his wing gently on Po, who then stepped aside, bringing Katayama and Mr. Ping with him, leaving Crane and Tigress to themselves. Tigress, at Crane's approach, relaxed once again, confused by his presence, too focused on Katayama and the others to notice his presence.

"Crane?" Tigress began, "I thought you were gone? Did you even need soul-searching?"

Crane nodded and laughed to himself, for it was just like Tigress to openly criticize, for if it wasn't related to kung-fu than she normally had nothing to do with it. On a personal level, he found it sad, but it was simply the way that things were.

"How blind you are!" Crane chastised, preparing himself, "You never stop changing, never stop searching; that is the beauty of life. Maybe if you saw that, you would be happier."

Tigress groaned and shook her head, annoyed that Crane was entering a battle of wit rather than one of skill. She would have none of it; because if such a contest were to be had, she would lose every time.

"Stop being so self-righteous" Tigress retorted, "It's annoying. Now are we going to fight or not!"

Crane laughed again, this time with more pity and hung his head, sighing a bit; for like Po, he had no wish to fight anyone if he could help it. He believed as he always had, that kung-fu should only be used for self-defense, never for personal gain. It was a difficult situation then, being faced with friends on all sides and yet feeling completely isolated from them all, as if he were on another planet altogether.

"I won't fight you" Crane said solemnly, "Today has been hard enough already. Don't make it any worse. Just let us leave as we are."

Tigress shook her head in full disagreement, as far as she was concerned Crane's disavowal of the Furious Five was enough to bar him from the palace; at least until enough time had passed and the belief of true change within him had come and resonated itself. It was cruel, and an act of betrayal, for Crane to appear so sudden after having so recently left, his intentions made clear and his resolve sound. To Tigress, it showed weakness, which was something that she could not allow; not in herself, and certainly not in Crane, whom she respected too much to see falter in any capacity.

"I'm sorry Crane" Tigress replied, "But I can't let you leave. There's no honor in it. But if you must, leave fighting."

Crane turned towards Po and Mr. Ping, smiled and casually nodded; then back to Mantis, Viper, and Monkey, who became frozen in place, only able to look on helplessly, shock having taken over all other action and rendering them incapacitated.

"So be it" the bird answered, preparing himself once more, "I guess friendship counts for nothing these days."

"No" Tigress answered directly, "I guess it doesn't."

The tiger charged as fast as she was able; giving Crane just enough time to take to the air and make proper use of his tactical advantage, grabbing Tigress' tail and swinging her around, ultimately throwing her against the nearest wall. Pulling herself up, caring little for the dent that had been caused in the innocent wall, Tigress immediately restored to her age-old routine, pouncing between right and left fields, which only caused Crane to take the offense, deflect her attacks, and jab with his beak as soon as he found an available opening.

It was here that Po lost his composure and his general calm demeanor and receded back into his usual behavior, his fanboy tendencies rising to heights unseen as he began cheering them both on, his brain unable to decide which one he liked better. Technically speaking he knew that in a prolonged struggle, providing that certain conditions were met, Tigress would win on account of her strength; but here, in an open space, Crane had the advantage. Mr. Ping, in contrast, immediately began counting in his head the numerous injuries that Crane was receiving, particularly in the torso, for despite his best efforts, the bird had allowed some of Tigress' actions to fall through.

The fight culminated on the roof of the palace. Crane, who was in the air at this point, hovering just out of Tigress' reach, suddenly for no particular reason, began to cry.

"Please" Crane said, begging, reiterating, "Don't let today end like this. It's not worth it. Let me go!"

Tigress growled, spitting out blood in the process, refusing to back down.

"Why did you leave Crane if you were just going to come back?" Tigress demanded, "What gives you the right!"

Crane, landing on the opposite side, keeping as much distance between them as possible for security reasons, now began to understand. It was comforting, in its own way, to hear the words come from Tigress; it meant that his absence meant something and held significance even to her, who maintained a hard disposition.

"All that talk" Crane exclaimed, answering, "It is merely a shield for your pain. You fight not because it is the only thing you know but because it is the only way to express yourself. I fight to protect others; however, I express myself through non-violent action: words, poetry, music, dance, in some cases. Regardless, I am not immune to pain. Maybe that is the reason why I came back, to develop an immunity. Maybe not, in any case, it does not really concern you."

Tigress slowly began to relax, Crane's words lowering her defenses and causing her to finally see reason. She was hurt, in more ways than one, to find that Crane was developing an immunity to them, which she interpreted as a way of casting them off and preventing emotion from entering his heart and his head and developing into internal conflict. It was sad, but it was the way things were.

"The panda called you Master" Tigress noted as she walked forward, all notion of combat having left her mind for the time being, "When did you get promoted?"

"Self-promotion" Crane answered promptly, "It's not official. Not yet. But I have taken them- the panda and the goose- under my wing. The wolf is my second."

Tigress shook her head and sighed, slight guilt overtaking her.

"You know that's against protocol" she pointed out critically, "You cannot call yourself a Master when you merely a practitioner. There's a process Crane. It goes against all our traditions, everything we've been taught."

Crane smiled and huffed, secretly enjoying the fact that he was being reprimanded, it reminded him that the world still turned.

"Do you remember what I said?" Crane exclaimed rhetorically, "That just because things were changing doesn't mean they always should? How some things should stay as they are? Although that is true in many things, in this, it is false. Because what is coming; it relies on the blindness of sameness. The old rules can no longer apply."

Before Tigress could even come up with a response, for Crane was playing an advanced version of the pronoun game, the bird had already taken his leave and returned to the courtyard. Jumping down with relative ease, the tiger found herself standing beside Viper, Mantis, and Monkey, who had unfrozen themselves and regained their confidence to the point where they were able to ask questions and possibly seek answers. Mantis, who had a million and a half things going through his head, having read Crane's scrolls meticulously and finding many questioning and confusing things within, slowly approached Crane with the carefulness and curiosity that is keen to his species, the discarded but not forgotten scrolls in his hands.

"Crane" Mantis began, trying to find words, "What happens now?"

Crane looked down at his diminutive friend and smiled calmly, trying to communicate comfort despite the overwhelming fear and devastation that had consumed his thoughts since the village. There was only one reasonable course of action that he could see, and, for the time being, it involved none of the practitioners.

"You and the others train" Crane answered, "Prepare for the absolute worst case scenario. Get a contingency plan, and then another contingency plan for the first contingency plan."

Mantis raised his eyebrows, for he did not receive an answer to the question nor was he comforted by Crane's words.

"What are you talking about?" Mantis pried, "Is something coming? Tell us what's going on damn it, how are we supposed to prepare if we don't what we're preparing for?"

Crane sighed and hung his head in shame. Taking the scrolls and absent-minded flipping through them, for he knew their contents by heart, the bird, after finding the one that he needed, handed it back to Mantis, keeping the rest.

"Read it" Crane said solemnly, "It will paint a clearer picture. Do not worry, I won't be needing it."

Figuring there was no point in pushing any further, for he was doubtful that he would get a straight answer, Mantis took solace in the scroll and hopped away, reading as he went inside the palace. Glancing at the others, who stood beside themselves, Crane said nothing; only casually whistled, summoning his traveling companions to his side, signaling them to take their leave. Po, who was sad to go so suddenly, nodded, knowing that this was part of a much greater adventure, grateful that under Crane's leadership he was guaranteed the right to enter the palace. Mr. Ping, who was also sad to leave, for it also meant leaving the Imperial City, took comfort in the fact that whatever evil was coming that it would be stopped, that he would have a part in it, and that his son would be by his side. Katayama, who in contrast was all too happy to leave, licked his wounds and limped off palace grounds, grumbling and cursing to himself.

"I hope that plan of yours paid off Crane" Katayama answered as he passed, walking down the steps, "I'm getting sick and tired of getting my ass kicked. There's only so much pain a wolf can take."

"Then fight harder" Crane suggested sarcastically, leaving the conservation as it was; mostly out of annoyance, expressing his desire to be left alone.

"Don't worry Mister Crane" Mr. Ping said in passing, following Katayama, "Everything will turn out for the best, you'll see."

Embracing Crane and patting him on the back, Mr. Ping felt vindicated, a new sense of purpose washing over him; one that he had not felt since taking in Po. It was a good feeling. Crane, too lost in himself to return the affection, which was indeed mutual, merely smiled as meekly as he could, feigning normalcy and continued his way down the steps, waiting for Po to come and meet him.

Po, walking beside Crane and matching his pace, being as polite as possible, said nothing, mirroring Crane's silence. Crane, who expected Po to greet him as the others had, raised his eyebrows in anticipation, his glare condescending, and his mood generally uninviting.

"Go ahead" Crane said, breaking his silence for a second time, "Tell me how awesome it was. Seeing the Jade Palace, fighting Tigress, meeting the Four. Go ahead, give me your exciting account of the great battle you witnessed."

Po twiddled his thumbs, nervous and unsettled. He didn't want to talk about his excitement, however true it was, for he knew that was exactly what Crane was expecting; the kind of behavior that confirmed the bird's initial observations, making everything that was said about him, ring all the truer. Placing his hand on Crane's shoulder, Po gently patted it, looked into his eyes and said:

"I'm sorry"

Crane nodded, saying nothing as his silence returned and he retreated back into the safest place available ultimately resorting to flying down the reminder of the stairs.

Reaching the city gate and handing the rolled up scrolls to Po, Crane sighed and haphazardly began giving them instructions.

"You and Mr. Ping are going north to Neimongol. The village of Kharn is your destination. Look for Shen-Fe, if anyone will know where the temple is, she will."

Po and Mr. Ping nodded and placed the scrolls in Po's knapsack, ensuring their protection. Crane, meanwhile turned to Katayama, who bowed as low as he was able and smiled.

"I wish you luck Master Crane" Katayama declared, struggling in the effort, "May you find all that you are looking for in this life and the next."

Crane bowed in turn, rose, and smiled; trying his best to show his gratitude.

"I wish you could journey with us" Crane returned, "But in your condition I simply could not allow it."

Katayama laughed and brushed him off, refusing to acknowledge his circumstances further.

"They're not wounds Crane they're battle scars" Katayama corrected, guessing the bird's feelings, "Besides, I never said about leaving the fight. Careen must pay for what he's done. Consider this an intermission on my part. The first act written in ink, the second act in blood. Farewell my friends, pray this is not the last time we meet."

With this Katayama walked through the gates and ran into the forest, his mission, a personal one, undertaken in full stride. Crane, Mr. Ping and Po watched for as long as they dared, after which they bade each other goodbye, father and son heading for the north and Crane to the south to Fujian.


	10. The Right Hand of Careen

Chapter Ten: The Right Hand of Careen

The next morning the rain clouds having dissipated, allowing the sun to shine down in all of its glory, bringing life to the earth and slowly returning the mud of the past few days back to dirt, the world, for a moment, faded away; the only thing that remained were Careen, who stared at the morning sun, and his thoughts. For a moment, he was at peace, there was not thought of war or destruction, there was only himself.

 _"Out of all the things that are going to change"_ Careen thought to himself, _"There are some things that simply must remain the same. For the sake of future cranes, I will see to it that the sun rises early in the morning, that they might look at it, see the day, and make it theirs."_

Feeling the cold stone beneath his feet, Careen smiled as he gazed upon his men, going over their early morning routines; not because of his sudden realization of power, or because of his excellent strategic planning, in the selection of a home base that was both extremely secluded and assumed lost to time; but in the many, many sunrises that all of his efforts would bring. Turning around and leisurely pacing his quarters, filled with extravagant silks, gold and silver trinkets, and several luxurious china pieces, all collected from the campaign, Careen's smile increased as the feeling of absolute power and vindication washed over him. This feeling however, quickly subsided, as more powerful thoughts and greater desires clouded his mind; the sight of the china and the gold and silks reminding him of the one responsible for his success.

"What I would give to see all of this taken away" Careen said, speaking his thoughts aloud, "Power means nothing if it is wielded alone; just as total destruction is futile if there is only one survivor. Achieved, yet not achieved. A paradoxical conundrum only pursued by fools who do not know their fate."

Careen made his way over to a mirror on the wall and stared at his reflection, taking note of the numerous scars he had on his face; in particular, the one above his right eye, the newest addition, having been received during the most recent pillage and scorch. Rubbing his wounds with his wings, if only to see if they hurt and to remind himself of pain, Careen sighed and closed his eyes; only for the sun's reflection to blind him and to bring his attention back to its existence. Looking back towards his perch, which was merely an open space where there was once a former balcony, Careen stared off into the distance and once again became at peace; the sun serving as a constant reminder of hope and promise, as well as Chi-la.

"Don't worry" Careen continued, his mood considerably brighter, "We shall win the day."

The chamber door opened, standing in the threshold was Jun, a red-crested crane, a little shorter than Careen; around his neck, a ceremonial necklace, a symbol of his people. On his head, a conical hat with a black feather at the top, a gift for his service. The bird bowed majestically, lowered his head to the ground and swooping up his right wing in greeting, which Careen accepted with a simple nod, causing Jun to rise and stand at attention.

"Sir" Jun began, "Commander Lang has commissioned me to your service sir. Anything you require, I shall do my best to see it done."

Careen slowly stepped aside, welcoming Jun inside. Taking the cue, Jun carefully crossed through, taking his place in the center of the room, after which he began to run through his exercises, guessing that Careen wished to evaluate his skills. Careen, for his part, returned to his perch, denying Jun the courtesy of an audience but granting him the greater courtesy of privacy. Breathing in, smelling the morning air and tasting the warm wind from the trees, Careen slowly began calculating in his head how many suns he had seen and how many times they had brought him peace.

"How long have you been with us Jun?" Careen asked, a rhetorical question, for he knew the answer, Jun being one of the first cranes, when it was nothing more than a glorified militia.

Jun laughed and shook his head as he landed from a high jump-kick, flowing through into a small series of jabs and punches.

"Since Fujian" Jun answered proudly, "Have you forgotten already? I've been with you since the beginning. I have killed for you, I have seen my friends die for you; I gave up a chance at a home for you, that others might have it- that our people would be free."

Careen nodded, smiling a bit, guessing that there were a thousand stories and a thousand cranes, all like Jun, who had suffered the same and thought the same, each of them having seen their fair share of death, of families torn apart and lives taken before their time. He wondered if perhaps it was enough, if his statements were made, if the violence could end that they might know peace. He knew of course that this was impossible, for Chi-la still remained in spirit form, not yet returned to the living, a problem that, as far as he was concerned, could only be solved through the wave of bloodshed and the death of the Emperor.

"How far would you go to save the ones you love?" Careen said after several minutes of silence, "What if Naomi were in peril? Or Sun held with a knife to his throat?"

Jun stopped; pondering the answer, the weight of the question bringing him to a standstill. Naomi, his wife of six months; and Sun, his kid-brother, both in Fujian, working as merchants selling to customers who cared little for their wares. The thought of losing them in any kind of danger had never crossed his mind before, if only because they had always known some type of security, mostly through Careen. Jun supposed, that if any harm came to them, he would first ensure their safety and then go after the ones responsible; if they had died in the rescue, the only available option was suicide.

"Everything I do is for them" Jun exclaimed, after a moment of careful thought, "I breathe for them, I fight for them and if necessary, I would die for them. No mountain is too high, no valley too wide, no price too much in regard to their safety. That is why I am with you. You are willing to do the things that others are too afraid to do."

Careen turned around and faced him meeting him halfway, satisfied with his answer. Placing his wing on Jun's shoulder, Careen, speaking with the gentleness, his voice filled with understanding and gratitude, began to hatch a plan.

"Jun, my friend" Careen exclaimed, "We've been through a lot together. We've seen good cranes die for causes they did not believe in. We've heard the cries of innocents go unanswered and eventually die, with no one to mourn them. Together, we have suffered. It is for this reason, among many others, your loyalty chief among them, that I am promoting you. Tell your commanding officer that from this point on, you report to me."

Jun nodded and bowed respectively, for there was nothing else that he could do, given the situation.

"Thank you sir" Jun replied, smiling a bit, "I won't let you down."

The door opened, with it came Raslin, in his hands, a tray of food and a ceremonial knife, as requested.

"Ah" Careen continued, noticing the mouse, "Please, bring it here."

Raslin, obliging Careen's request, quietly hopped his way over to his master, who then took the tray and knife and placed it on the bed. Jun huffed and rolled his eyes, personally finding Raslin and everything that he stood for, disgusting.

"There is no honor in assassination" Jun griped, "If we weren't trying to win a war I would kill you where you stand Raslin. But then again, I would be wasting three seconds of my life in the effort."

Raslin laughed and sniffed, the mouse being a light sufferer of allergies.

"Since where is there honor in being Lang's toady?" Raslin retorted, "That idiot can't even lead a battalion through simple formations, not to mention he's drunk half the time from all the nerves. How can you stand it? It must really be pitiful, being with that jester! Why, it's almost demeaning. Worthy of suicide."

Careen bashed Raslin on the head with his wing as hard as he could without causing serious injury.

"Hold your tongue!" Careen commanded as he hit him again, "You are speaking to my Right Hand."

Raslin laughed and huffed in disbelief; envying Jun for his newfound title and the position that came with it, for although he took plenty of pleasure and had plenty of status as Careen's servant and assassin, there was always more of everything to be had.

"You can't be serious Master" Raslin began dismissively, "You do realize that he's a toady? Follows every command Lang makes without question, never making himself known, and completely blending in. On top of it all he has virtually no experience in this line of work. He is, in short, a grunt, and a grunt's place is digging ditches and killing those who try to kill him, nothing more, nothing less."

Careen laughed and shook his head, as far as he was concerned Raslin was in no position to make such accusations; and in terms of combat experience, Careen could personally judge for Jun's ability, furthering nullifying Raslin's claims. Still, if only to humor the mouse, Careen indulged him.

"Since you're _obviously_ filled with good ideas Raslin" Careen began, "What do you suggest?"

Raslin immediately retracted, cowering in himself and displaying behavior more akin to worms than hopping mice; still, despite this, he gave an answer.

"I am not one to tell Master his business" Raslin said, contradicting himself, "But if you would take my counsel might I suggest appointing someone with covert operations experience? Someone who is able to get behind enemy lines with easy and report intelligence. Someone who can blend in to almost any environment. Someone like-"

"You" Jun replied, cutting Raslin off, at the same time scowling in annoyance, "If you're going to nominate yourself at least have the courtesy to be upfront about it. Seriously, show some respect for yourself you demeaning sniveling cur."

Raslin raised his eyebrows and folded his arms, insulted.

"A demeaning sniveling cur!" Raslin exclaimed, "I have been called many things but never such a thing as that!"

Jun laughed and brushed him off, generally unimpressed with Raslin's comeback, for it sounded like something a crane chick would complain to his mother about; not the words of a hard and unfeeling assassin in the service of Careen. In fact, so little was Jun phased by Raslin that any respect that he had for him, which was none to begin with, had diminished even further and entered into negative territory border-lining hate.

"If that's the worst you've been called you aren't being told what a horrible and despicable person you are" Jun defended, "That or you have really, really poor hearing."

Careen raised his wing, bidding for silence, which Jun immediately gave; Raslin however was too busy whining, complaining, and defending himself from Jun: he began hopping manically as if he were about to go on a murdering frenzy all the while blabbering nonsense. The cranes, much to Raslin's annoyance, paid him no mind, which only increased the mouse's intensity. Walking over to the perch once again, Careen, followed by Jun, with the irritable Raslin carrying away aimlessly, began once again to hatch a plan of action.

"One of my scouts has intercepted a message from the Imperial City" Careen explained, "Apparently a member of the Furious Five has been ousted and the Palace is looking for a replacement."

Jun stood by confused, not reading the significance of Careen's words and simply passing them off as something interesting; which indeed it was.

"Does the public know?" Jun asked, slowly going through the million and a half questions that been triggered.

"No" Careen answered promptly, "And they never will. Not as long as Master Shifu and Oogway have anything to say about it. They need to keep up the image that they have things under control. With that being said however, they have managed to send word out in their private circles to the temples that they are recruiting for Crane, hence the reason why we know about it in the first place."

Jun stared out into the fortress, looking down on the troops, who endlessly continued their drills as if it was their sole purpose in life. He could see Commander Lang, whose group was closest, desperate trying to rouse his men for another exercise. It was pointless, Jun knew, for half the time Lang had abdicated leadership to him, in order to calm himself down, Lang being easily startled and uneasy with most social interaction. The only reason that Lang was a commander at all was because of an accidental victory that came about through a retreat, unintentionally leading the enemy, at the time a group of rebels bent on overtaking the government, into the much larger force. It was easily the luckiest move in the history of warfare at the time, as well as the luckiest promotion that anyone had ever received.

"How many more of these messengers have we caught?" Jun continued, his brain switching to his inner strategist.

Careen smiled and laughed, patting Jun on the back in admiration.

"Not a single one of them remains!" the bird answered, "The message they carried was encoded; we have only recently deciphered it."

Jun nodded and smiled in turn; this was good, it meant that there was no possible chance for recruitment, by the time such letters were received and responded to, in addition to the discovery of the original ones never arriving, it would be too late. Careen and his army would descend upon the city and hopefully, assassinate the Emperor.

"So what's the plan?" Jun pressed, his interest peaked, "How are we going to move on this?"

Careen laughed again, this time more devious than the last; this worried Jun, for usually when Careen laughed in such a way it meant that he was getting excited and when he was excited, things happened. Whether or not those things were good or bad Jun was still uncertain of, the only thing he understood was that the laugh was always followed with action.

"You, my fine-feathered friend are going to infiltrate the ranks of the Four and make them the Five! You will train with them, you will eat with them, and you will socialize with them. Once their trust is an absolute certainty you will lure them to the Emperor whereby we have a mass execution."

Jun, although intrigued by the possibility of becoming Crane and being with the best China had to offer, immediately had some heavy concerns; chief among them being the inevitable retaliation that they would receive with the seven-way assassination plot, automatically accounting for Oogway and Shifu, who if the Four were killed would also have to be dealt with.

"What about resistance?" Jun added, "You can't possibly expect people to sit quietly about this. They're among the most respected individuals in the nation. Their deaths will only make them martyrs and martyrdom is bad for revolutions."

Careen laughed for a third time, for he had already thought seven steps ahead of Jun's thinking. This time however, he said nothing, only continued to laugh and shake his head.

"Sir" Jun concluded, speaking frankly as he took his leave, "If I may, you're completely insane."

Careen nodded in full agreement, for he would not argue with what he himself believed whole-heartedly. Raslin, who had given up his ranting and raving out of tiredness long ago, huffed and spat in Jun's direction in an attempt to as disrespectful as possible. The crane only smirked and rolled his eyes, just like he did before, his initial belief unchanged and gradually worsening. As Jun walked out the door to inform Lang of his new duties, he could not help but feel a sense of uneasiness come over him as if he made the worst mistake of his life even worse.

Back in Careen's quarters, the leader stood at his perch, the ceremonial knife in his hand. His eyes carefully watching Jun and his movements, trying to detect any sense of doubt and fear. The crane, feeling legitimate concern, took to the air and flew down to his newest protege and, in good graces, presented the knife. Returning minutes later with a serious look on his face, Careen immediately had another idea, a security measure.

"Raslin" he said, speaking slowly to make sure that he was understood, "Follow him. Make sure he does as he is told."

Raslin nodded and giddily laughed, a small bit of hope entering his heart, that he, of all people, had something meaningful to perform.

"Gladly Your Excellency" Raslin replied, buttering up, "And how shall I do it?"

Careen huffed, slightly annoyed, for he had hoped that given the nature of the request that it was obvious.

"Discreetly you idiot!" Careen bellowed, "And I do mean _discreetly._ No one must know of your presence. You act as a ghost. Do not kill, only observe and report. Do you understand?"

Raslin nodded again, showing his submission, internally cackling to himself.

" _Spying on the spy!"_ Raslin thought, his mind working in its twisted and evil way, " _How ironic can you get?"_

"Good" Careen continued, interpreting Raslin's nod as complete understanding, "Now get the hell out of here. Send for Chi-la on your way out. It's not even noon and I'm already stressed."

Raslin, doing as he was told and bidding his time, hopped away, closing the chamber door on the way out. Careen meanwhile, made his way over to the bed, nauseously staring at the lunch tray before tossing it aside; not caring where it landed. As he waited for Chi-la and the sweet release that he knew she would bring, Careen, in a desperate attempt at peace began whistling to himself.


	11. The Story of the River

Chapter Eleven: The Story of the River

Crane had secured passage on a fishing boat that would take him directly to his hometown, colloquially referred as River Running South, choosing to keep a low profile and travel by river in the hope of not drawing attention to himself. To his right was Bali, an elder crane, who claimed to be the Xian of the village taking travelers, mostly mice, cats, and other such creatures, to the wetlands for vacations, work, or refuge. Crane thought that if Careen continued his campaign, that Bali would be seeing a lot more refugees and in worse conditions than his current company. He imagined the world covered in fire and ash, the darkness, closing in and trapping those who dared to stay. If Careen could not be stopped, and if the Valley of Peace were somehow lost, Crane knew that he would have to be the one to survive, to guide and lead the survivors to a new place, a place that was free and happy; one where everyone was judged not by who their father was or what kind of job they held, but by their character. If such a place existed, he promised that eventually he would find it, and if some reason it did not, he would make it himself.

"You never did tell me who you were" Bali said as he steered the boat, "I usually like to get to know my customers. Helps ease the tension."

Crane huffed and shook his head, for talking was the last thing on his mind; which was too concerned with other matters, mainly what was going to happen when he returned home. If he had to guess, it would not be a warm welcome, for his original departure was not on the best of terms of anyone, least of all his mother. He remembered calling her a controlling and manipulative bitch, not worth anyone's time, effort, or concern. In a way, he regretted this, the wiles and whims of youth twisting his brain and his heart in two directions and neither of them pleasant.

"Just get me to River Running South" Crane replied, "All the rest is irrelevant."

Bali nodded and continued on in silence, quietly observing, watching Crane as he leaned against a small railing looking out at the opposite bank. On the shore, Crane could see two monkeys, grooming each other, in the river itself, a pair of oriental small-clawed otters, named Zhunbei, roughly translated to Ready, and Wending, or Steady. These two otters, who laughed and sang among the reeds, were the prefect picture of what Crane thought a couple should be. Because these particular otters were naturally loud, following the philosophy of always making their voices heard even when they cannot clearly be seen, Crane heard their conversation that went thusly.

"As far as I'm concerned your father will just have to deal with me" Ready began, rolling onto his side as he coasted, "I'm not going anywhere, the sooner he accepts it the better."

Steady nodded in understanding and followed suit with Ready, lying on her back.

"I know dear" she replied, "But you know how he is. He's very emotional. All he wants to make sure that I'm taken care of."

Ready laughed and gently placed his paw on Steady's shoulder, after which he kissed the side of her head.

Crane drowned out the rest of the conversation after that, feeling it as an invasion of privacy and turned his thoughts away from the otters and towards his own life. He remembered, in the weeks before he left for the Imperial City, a crane named Ti, who was the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen. Crane, who had never had tremendous luck when it came to women, always awkward, stammering, and at times rambling on about nonsense, all things he acquired living with his mother; became a completely different person when in Ti's presence. She instilled in him confidence, and he in turn taught her the finer points in life, like how to have fun. Those weeks culminated along the banks of the very river he now traveled, as the fireflies gathered for their night-time dance.

* * *

Standing among the reeds, Crane, who had up until this point been eating the fish that swam up to him and gazing up at the night time sky, wondering if his ancestors were looking down on him, and if they were, if their eyes were favorable. Ti, for her part, waded as far as she dared to go and stopped, breathing for the sake of breathing. Her wings, white as the moon, reflected off of the river, causing temporary and perhaps half exaggerated blindness, to Crane, who instantly looked in her direction. After focusing for a few seconds, Crane found himself staring into Ti's eyes, easily her best external feature, despite being the color of mud; and was reminded of why he was captivated with her in the first place. To be sure, it was in many ways, her personality, which mirrored his own, Ti relying mostly on intelligence and wit rather than strength and cunning; but another part was her unnatural beauty. Although compared to most cranes Ti was ordinary, for most of the red-crested cranes had wings that shone like the moon, especially when the moon itself was out and even more so in water, there was something about the way Ti walked, a steady gait, the way she talked, only speaking when necessary and then, a bird of few words, and the way she carried herself in general that attracted her to Crane. In short, Ti's beauty was not so much an aesthetic beauty as it was an inner spiritual one. She was, by all accounts, normal, and normal was exactly what Crane was looking for.

Leaning down and picking up a lily-pad with his beak, if only because he thought it was pretty, Crane gently eased himself toward her and in his head began to declare his intentions. He wanted to say some poem he had heard a few days before, but at the moment the words had abandoned and in its place, for the first time in Ti's presence, came fear and anxiety. The cost of rejection a killing blow to his heart, one that he would surely not be able to recover easily from, if he recovered at all; the price of acceptance however, outweighed the risk, for with it brought the fulfilment and the promise for which cranes are known. Now, inches away, words gone and too far in to retract without being seen, Crane made his move and quickly placed the lily-pad on Ti's wing, weaving it through like one would a broach. It wasn't the best place for it, he knew, but it was enough to make the point.

Ti turned at the gesture and smiled, admiring the gift and then looking at Crane, at the same time reminding Crane of yet another feature that he found irresistible, her laugh, the sound of it alone contagious enough to cause all who heard it to smile and laugh in turn.

"So you do like it then?" Crane said rhetorically, "Good. I didn't know what I was going to do otherwise-"

"It's beautiful Din" Ti exclaimed, "True, it's not jewel encrusted, but then again-"

Crane sighed and hung his head, at the mentioning of jewels and other fashionable accessories, he was reminded of a great and harsh truth- that he was incredibly poor, and that he would never be able to afford such luxuries. However, Ti's conclusion of the sentence warmed his heart and hardened his resolve.

"It's from you. That makes it special."

The fireflies that danced around them slowly began to encircle them, almost as if they were willing them to come together. They did not, keeping in their personal space, despite every desire, mostly on the part of Crane, to act on such things. In a way however, he did. Clearing his throat and bowing as low as he could, his beak nearly touching the water, Crane, his confidence fully restored, did the bravest thing he ever did and began flute calling. Flute calling is part of the process known as a duet, which involves a series of dances and calls made from the throat, known as flute calls, most often done during April and early May, the mating season; or to establish and or maintain pair bonds, which are life-long. Under normal circumstances this kind of behavior is followed by action, however, in this instance, a direct response was not necessary. Being late in the summer and thus, not the proper time for mating, in which the establishment of the pair bond would begin, Crane's flute call was much akin to that of a promise to be fulfilled at a later time.

* * *

The sound of Bali's horn, which he used at every stop to let passengers know of his approach brought Crane out of himself and back to his current situation. The otters, who had thus far kept pace with the boat, were now laughing and casually playing with each other, a type of foreplay. Crane, temporarily sickened at the sight of them, turned away and for the first time since he had been on the boat, took notice of the other passengers. One of them was a mouse with a quill and a scroll.

"What are you writing scribe?" Crane asked, guessing at the mouse's position given his attire, a red vest.

"Expedition notes" the mouse answered bluntly, "My master, The Great Aquila, has sent his ambassador, me, to China to negotiate on his behalf with your Honorable Emperor that a union might exist between our peoples."

Crane nodded and shook his head, rolling his eyes, for if it was one thing he needed it was an international perspective. Like most people who followed The Way, Crane cared little for the lands beyond China, figuring that there were enough problems that existed just in the country alone that there was no point in adding to them by bringing in foreigners.

"Well you can take your Great Aquila and shove up your butt as far as I'm concerned" Crane replied, "We don't take much stock in your kind here. We've been doing perfectly fine on our own for centuries, the last thing we need is people coming in and ruining it."

The mouse, whose name was Julian, sighed and shook his head in pity, for this response was the same response that he had been given to everyone he told his business to; still, something about the way Crane carried himself told him that he did not say these words out of mean-spiritedness and so immediately took a chance. Putting the warmest smile possible and extending his paw for a handshake Julian introduced himself.

"Julian Augustus Maro" the mouse exclaimed, "Would you mind if I took a statement from you?"

Crane raised his eyebrows in suspicion, for this was one of the first times that anyone had asked his opinion or to take a formal statement. It was strange, for he never considered anything he had to say to be of great importance, save perhaps for his Philosophies, which he considered a public service, even in normal conversation Crane took a passive stance, choosing to listen and only act when necessary.

"I don't take statements" Crane continued, annoyed that he was being bothered, "Try someone who knows people."

Julian laughed and shook his head, refusing to believe that Crane was the type of person he said he was, despite the fact that in many ways it was entirely true, being the kind of person who made people out for himself, never taking anything at face value, one of the many reasons the Great Aquila hand-picked him for this assignment; for if relations between the two countries were ever to be realized, open-mindedness and caution were necessities.

"All the same" Julian pressed, "A crane's insight would be most beneficial. Now, from where do you hail?"

* * *

It didn't matter to Crane that he did not dance with Ti as he would have liked, for that would have solidified the union, it was enough to hear the call. As the fireflies concluded their dance and returned to the reeds, so too did Crane and Ti make their way to the village, but not before Crane caught one last fish, a cod, ultimately handing to Ti to eat. Smiling, thankful that another gift had been accepted from him, Crane laughed to himself, thankful, in turn, for the greater gift he had received. Taking flight and landing in the village square moments later, they stopped in front of Ti's hut.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Crane asked, concerned, for Ti had recently been having trouble at home, particularly with her mother, a stern traditionalist.

"You worry too much Din" Ti answered, "Besides, she'll come around eventually. You know how she is."

Crane laughed and nodded, "Reminds of my mother" he returned, "Overprotective as she is overbearing. But they can't control our lives forever, as much as they might want to. I promise you, next season when everything's official, I will make you the happiest crane in China. I'll get a job until we can get enough money to get away from here. We can start a family, have a nice little farm with plenty of space, and a big tree that touches the sky."

Ti gently placed a wing on Crane's shoulder and smiled, kissing him on his cheek at the same time.

"Promise me something" Ti said with all the seriousness in the world, "When you get to the City, don't forget about me."

Crane nodded in understanding, for there was one thing he was absolutely sure about, it was that he would never forget her; he loved her too much for that to happen. It was funny, he thought at the time, that love came so easily to him, almost as easy as breathing, speaking, or flying. It was incomprehensible to lose any of these things, just as it was incomprehensible for him to consider losing Ti.

"I leave with the heaviest of hearts" Crane declared, "abandoning the happiness I have had with everyone I have ever known for the safety and security of anonymity."

* * *

Crane had just about enough of Julian's questions; so far he had asked everything under the sun, from his hometown, to his relatives, occupation, and reason for travel. The last question, Crane partially dodged, claiming to visit his grandmother who had fallen ill-she had in fact died seven months before-and thus avoided the real reason for his trip, the gathering of information and allies.

"So" Julian continued, "How would you consider life under the Emperor?"

Crane raised his eyebrows suspiciously; for the question was not something that he had put much thought into, in part because as a monk he was removed from the majority of politics, save for the occasional prevention of a political official, which had more to do with stopping a murder than any particular political leaning. Still, if only to humor the mouse and in the hope that the question was the final one, Crane gave an answer.

"Fine" Crane replied, "I'm luckier than most. I don't go hungry every night, I have a roof over my head. Friends. What more could anyone ask for?"

Julian nodded and began ticking marks on his scroll with his quill. Crane cringed with every mark that was made, the sound unnecessarily loud, akin to claws scraping against stone. Julian, noticing this, stopped immediately and smiled sheepishly, embarrassed that he had caused Crane unnecessary pain.

"Forgive me" Julian said, laughing a bit to cover his embarrassment, "I did not mean to offend. We shall simply continue this without the quill."

Crane sighed and nodded, anything that ended this conversation was a step in the right as he far as he was concerned. He knew that in his heart, Julian meant well and was in fact trying to be friendly, but it was difficult, given his current state and his circumstances-far from his friends and confused beyond possible belief-to pay attention.

"Might I ask you something?" Julian said after a brief moment of silence, "Earlier you mentioned you were a monk, yet you also claimed that you loved someone. How is that possible? Monks take vows of chastity, serious intimacy would be nigh on impossible."

Crane nodded, for Julian's observation was an astute one. He himself had often questioned why he had taken on the responsibilities of a monk when in his heart of hears he dared himself to love and be loved. Crane had long assumed that he took up the mantle because for the greater good; now however, he was not entirely sure. He was beginning to suspect that he had become a monk to run away, to hide from his feelings and the life he had left. The more he thought about it, and remembered the rest of that faithful evening, the more it seemed like a certain possibility.

The otters meanwhile, who were still following the boat and keeping pace, had suddenly found themselves riding next to it, just below Crane and within earshot having developed a curiosity for him. Ready, in an attempt to be friendly and show support, casually rapped on the side of the boat catching both the bird and the mouse's attention, after which he began introductions.

* * *

Ti's mother stepped outside, her frame tall and commanding of both respect and fear, it was obvious that she was the head of the family, a rare, but not unheard occurrence. As soon as Crane saw her, with her glaring and condemning eyes and his disapproving sway, he cowered and lowered his head underneath his wing, too afraid to directly look her in the eyes. The brave words he had uttered yet seconds before all but forgotten as if they were merely for the sake of the wind.

"Ti" she began, "What's a Lao doing on at our doorstep? You know we don't allow their kind here."

Ti huffed and rolled her eyes, her mother believing that she belonged to high nobility, and although had come into some money, and thus were easily one of the wealthier families in the region, they were not so well off to move to the Imperial City or to even have considerable land of their own. It was annoying to say the least, that she acted more important than she really was, so annoying that Ti had had just about enough of it.

"And why is that mother?" Ti returned sharply, "Just because the Laos live in reed huts and we live in stone that automatically makes us better? Just because they're from a long line of farmers and we're from caravaners that makes it okay for us to bring them down? Who are we to judge? What right do we possibly have?"

Ti's mother said nothing and only presented her daughter with the same glaring and icy stare that she gave to Crane; who unlike Crane, did not cower before it, having grown accustomed to its use.

"That's enough Ti" she declared, "Say goodbye to this-thing-and go to your room, we'll discuss this in the morning."

Crane, at the prospect of being called a thing, as well as Ti's courage against her mother, came out from underneath himself and suddenly found his own. Planting his feet firmly on the ground, his head held as high as he could lift it, his wings relaxed, Crane looked at Ti's mother with the straightest face he could possibly produce.

"I am not a _thing_ ma'am" Crane began, trying to be respectful in the hope of catching her off-guard, "I am Lao Din, son of Lao Shin and Yan Fan; and while it is true we are farmers, you will never find a better cultivated field of rice than those on our farm. Our rice is pure and simple, much like the people who planted them, we want only what we can see, and ask only for what we rightfully deserve-"

Crane stopped and sighed, collecting his thoughts, his next words would mean the immediate beginning or the sad and dismal end of the next few phases of his life. After a few seconds, his heart and his head clear and acting on the same purpose, Crane spoke again.

"I do not know if I am what your daughter deserves, I don't think anyone ever will be; but I do see her. I see her for what she is, for who she is, and I think it's the most beautiful thing in the world. If you would allow it I would give her everything she needed, it would not be all glamorous nor would it always be plentiful but what I can provide I will provide. I will love her every day as if it were the first day I saw her; because I do it already, I always have-"

It was at this moment that Crane received a violent slap to the face sending him to the ground in pain. Ti's mother stared at him and spat at his feet.

"You will never marry my daughter Din" she returned venomously, "I'd rather see her die than subject her to that!"

Ti stepped forward and administered a head-butt to her mother's torso, after which she helped Crane up and attempted to wipe the mud off of his wings. It was a futile effort, but it was still an effort. As for Ti's mother, she said nothing and only grabbed her daughter by the neck and proceeded to drag her into the house. Crane, despite his attempts and his pleas to stop her, pulling and tugging in the opposite direction as well as giving a few well deserved slaps and jabs of his own, ultimately found himself standing in front of a closed door, the sound of beating escaping through the walls and out onto the street. He wanted to break down the door and rescue her, but he did not in the event that the threat was carried out. Crane thought about what the world would be like without Ti in it; he wagered it would be incredibly lonely, a vast hole, forever empty. With these thoughts in his mind, Crane resigned himself to his fate and shuffled, defeated, down the street, heading for the small hill and the temple that rested at its peak.

* * *

"She survived" Crane said, talking to himself and for the most part thinking out loud, at the same time confusing Julian, "She was never the same again, but she survived. Broke both wings, setting myself back a week. I couldn't just leave her, not there. I told her that I would find work in the city and send every coin back; that I would be everything she needed me to be."

Ready sighed and shook his head, all too familiar with such experiences; granted not to such extremes, but still, in many ways the otter could emphasize. Julian, who by now had been caught up to speed, Crane divulging his tale completely, could think of nothing else to do but write down his own thoughts on the matter. Steady, for her part, gently reached up on the side of the boat and grasped Crane's wing, causing Crane in turn to look down and smile.

"Thank you" he continued, "It's nice to have someone who understands."

Steady laughed and turned to Ready, who nodded.

"Don't mention it Din" Steady returned, "What are acquaintances for?"

"Saying hello and forgetting names on the street while you pretend you've known each other for a long time" Crane answered, taking her statement literally, becoming somewhat comfortable in his surroundings, "That and the occasional loan."

Ready nodded in turn and gave a laugh of his own, personally appreciating his mate's humor. It did his heart good knowing that he was able to laugh with her, which only furthered his own resolve in making their union official. Although it would be difficult, especially without the presence of a daoshi, solidifying it under the grace of the ancestors, it would be worth any price to achieve true happiness.

"I like your style Din" Ready said, giving the best compliment he could, "You get it. We could use more understanding around here. You sticking around for a bit?"

Crane shrugged, in truth he wasn't entirely sure how long he was staying, enough to gather the information he needed and what help he could possibly find; after that, he found it incredibly unlikely that he would bother to stay- the place holding too many memories, both good and bad in equal measure.

"Not likely Zhunbei" Crane replied, "There's too much pain here. It is better if I simply do what I came here to do and move on."

Ready sighed, saddened but not completely disheartened, trying his best to understand the situation. Rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, the otter tried to recover himself, ultimately relying on Steady to pick up the pieces.

"It's just that" Ready began, "Things have gotten really, really bad around here. Not just for your kind, for all of us."

Steady nodded in full agreement, "Yes" she said, playing off him, "They're demanding tribute- protection money-if we pay it we're giving into their whims, if we don't we're beaten or worse."

Crane did not have to ask who these people were, for he already knew. It was obvious, at least in his mind, that Careen, if not directly involved himself, had gotten control of the area by way of the local nobility. In his youth, he knew a family of otters, most likely Steady's, who controlled much of the river trade; in addition to them and Ti's family there was also the Langs, a family of tigers, who specialized in ship-building and blacksmithing; and the Rens, a family of farmers who specialized in indigo as well as rice, made up of cranes and a peacock by marriage. All of them were incredibly wealthy by Fujian standards and their influence would carry tremendous weight in terms of the province's political structure, an absolute necessity for control.

"Which families are in control?" Crane asked, cutting right to the chase and wasting no time.

Ready and Steady hung their head in shame and sighed collectively. It was obvious that their hesitation was a safeguard, a means of protection. Julian, who caught this immediately, well versed in the art of political matters, calmly made his way to the side of the boat and looked down, smiling at them with all the friendliness in the world.

"Have courage and faith" Julian exclaimed, "If not in him, than in each other."

Ready lifted his head, his eyes wet with tears.

"If you knew what we were dealing with mouse" Ready returned, "You would know that courage has nothing to do with it. These people; they will stop at nothing until everything is theirs. They have killed and tortured those they deem irrelevant and unworthy. All in the name of Careen; who in turn, sees them as nothing more than a means to end."

Steady gently placed a paw on Ready's shoulder, trying her best to comfort him; it didn't work, but he still appreciated the gesture.

"Don't worry" Steady said, her voice a little lighter, "They will get theirs in the end. Din will see to that."

Ready shook his head, annoyed, for he knew it was impossible to face such a threat alone, much less when you are going up against four of the wealthiest families in the region. They would have numerous spies and allies in every possible crevice imaginable.

"He won't be doing it alone" Ready began, his confidence slowly returning the more he thought about it, in the back of his mind still doubting himself but choosing to ignore it, instead focusing on the hope and the promise that Crane had brought.

Steady smiled and nodded, for she had been thinking the exact same thing. Looking up at Crane and hoisting herself onto the boat, lending a hand to Ready, Steady sighed and rolled her neck in anticipation; she did not consider herself a fighter, but she knew when to answer the call of opportunity.

"We will help you" Steady exclaimed, speaking for them both, "We're not warriors, but we're smart, capable, and willing. Will you have us?"

Crane, although surprised by the offer, could not risk turning away potential help; besides, as far as he was concerned, he would need all the available allies he could muster. Turning to Julian, Crane was about to extend an offer of his own, but before he could do anything the mouse had already extended his hand, forcing him into a handshake; no words were necessary. Nodding to himself and satisfied that he had already made some progress in his quest, Crane glanced to his right casually just as the run-down dock made its way into view.


End file.
